A Bed of Warm Shale

A broad patch of morning light stretched across the floorboards near the ficus pot. I walked past the edge of the wool runner, keeping each step measured and flat against the polished wood. Beside the planter sat a shallow terracotta saucer filled with smooth, dark river pebbles. I paused and pressed my front foot against the clay rim. It held firm without sliding. One steady leg at a time, I stepped inside and rested my weight directly onto the stones. The rounded minerals shifted slightly, then locked solid under my tread. Warmth stored in the stone crept up into my underside. I lowered my stance and stayed.