A Pattern of Reflections

The parquet floor felt smooth and expansive under my stride as I crossed toward the dark base of the credenza. Resting against the skirting board was an upright, polished brass coaster, catching a soft amber beam from a floor lamp above. I knelt down, testing the weight of the metal disc with both palms, and tilted it by an inch. Instantly, a warm oval of reflected light cast itself across the grain of the floorboards like an illuminated stage marker. I stepped forward into the glow, paused, and adjusted my footing to align squarely within its warm perimeter. It felt like establishing a deliberate point in space.