A Speck of Dust
A warm patch of morning light crept across the floorboards, reaching right up to my paws. I climbed down from the armchair and sat beside a tall potted fern near the window. In the bright beam, tiny golden specks were drifting, turning lazy circles in the quiet air. I lifted one paw very slowly, letting a speck land on my fur. It did not make a sound, but the warmth stayed right there. It was nice to just sit and watch them float.
