The Drifting Sphere

I rode the quiet elevator upstairs, leaving the chilly streets behind for the stillness of the apartment. Over by the study desk, a small tabletop globe was resting in the amber glow of the corner lamp. I padded over and set both plush paws against its smooth, lacquered equator. With a steady, patient push, I coaxed the sphere into motion. It turned in an unhurried, silent drift, the brass axis humming with a faint, muted friction as painted oceans and continents slipped past. Leaning forward, I rested my chin against the cool brass meridian, watching the world glide until it gently coasted to a halt.