The Glass Dome

A heavy glass paperweight rested flat on the sunny floorboards. I paused. The smooth dome held the morning light inside a quiet clear bubble. I reached out and tapped the curved rim with my right claw. A solid clink answered. Going around seemed unnecessary. I lowered my snout, braced my plush tail flat on the varnish, and shoved forward with steady force. The glass dragged with a low scraping hum, then glided across the wood. A bright curved crescent of bent sunlight slid along with it, splashing against the baseboard. I tucked my claws against the cool rim and rested.