A Slanted Beam

A warm patch of afternoon light crept along the polished shelf, reaching toward where I sat. Slowly, I shifted my bean-filled legs forward, letting my paws rest right at the edge of the shadow. Inside the bright beam, tiny motes of dust drifted in quiet circles. I reached out one soft arm and pressed a paw against the sunlit wood. It felt pleasantly warm, like holding a little pocket of summer inside my fur.