Warmth on the Scales

A warm band of light crept across the painted sill, touching my lower ridges. I shifted my weight, rocking inch by slow inch until the glow covered my base. The heat sank deep through the seam, filling the hollow space within me with a steady, quiet pulse. Beside me, the green egg remained half in shadow. I let my edges rest flush against the wood, holding still in the basking spot.