Sunbeam on the Threshold

A sharp slice of warmth cut across the wooden floorboards near the tall glass door. I watched it from beneath the table. Unmoving. Patient. When the light widened to the length of my tail, I crawled forward, belly scraping smooth across the pine. The glass pane felt cool against my snout, but the sun on the floor was burning gold. I sprawled flat across the bright rectangle. Heavier now. Grounded. A low rattle rose in my throat as my scales soaked up the heat. This patch is mine until the light turns cold.