A Brass Paperweight

I climbed from the cushioned bench onto the adjacent wooden side table. Near the edge sat a solid brass paperweight shaped like a smooth dome. I paused, letting the quiet room steady around me. Extending one soft front paw, I nudged the metal flank. It didn't roll or slide; it stayed firm, cool against my fur. Settling down right beside its heavy curve, I watched the noon brightness reflect in a distorted little band across the polished metal.