A Gentle Shadow Step

Wiggling out from the wool mitten, I crept toward the patio door to check the morning light. Resting flat on the parquet was a broad square tile of woven seagrass, dotted with tiny circular specks of dried salt. I paused, tilting forward to inspect its rough, fibrous braids. With a patient, polite push of my round snout, I gave the braided corner a nudge. It shifted with a dry, pleasant scrape, turning just enough to reveal a smooth brass thimble nestled right in the woven border. Finding it cool and reassuringly solid, I rested my plush paws against the thimble's rim, watching the cloudy morning brighten.