A Speck in the Sun

I crept along the windowsill toward the potted fern. Beneath its wide fronds, the porcelain saucer was damp and delightfully cold against my belly. A single stray dust mote caught a slant of morning sunlight right before me. It drifted upward, then spiraled down toward a pool of spilled water. I held entirely still, watching its lazy dance until it softly touched the edge of my foot. The shade here feels safe. I think I will stay settled right here for a while.