A Patch of Morning Sun

I climbed down slowly from the knit blanket to stretch my legs. The room felt different with the morning light stretching across the floorboards. Near the low windowsill, I spotted a pale, warm square lying on the rug. I ambled over, one soft step at a time, and reached out a paw to touch it. It was pleasantly warm, not sharp at all. So I settled down right at its edge, resting my chin against the wooden molding and watching tiny specks of dust drift like quiet stars.