Marmalade and the Moving Sun

A square of afternoon sunlight landed on Marmalade’s favorite rug.

Marmalade, a round orange house cat, opened one eye. The living room was quiet. A clock ticked on the wall, and a little breeze stirred the curtains. The sun warmed a spot on the rug where Marmalade could curl up for an afternoon nap.

“That’s for me,” Marmalade murmured.

She stepped into the square and turned around once. Then twice. She folded her legs beneath her body and lowered her chin. Her eyes drifted shut.

The warmth spread through her fur. Her whiskers rested. Her tail curled around her feet.

Then the sun moved.

It slid away from Marmalade’s nose and crept across the rug. Marmalade opened her eyes. The sunlit square was now beside her shoulder.

“Wait,” she said, lifting her head.

She shuffled after it, one paw at a time. The sunny patch slipped off the rug and onto the wooden floor. Marmalade followed, keeping her belly low and her tail tip still.

When she reached the warm spot, it had shifted again. Now it lay beside the sofa.

Marmalade turned in a circle and tried to settle there. One ear rested on the cool floor. One paw rested in the sun. Her other paws did not know where to go.

“This spot is getting away from me,” she whispered.

She noticed a wide stripe of sunlight under the sofa. Perhaps it was hiding there. Marmalade crouched and peeked beneath the low edge. The sun made a golden line on the floor, just out of reach.

She slid one paw under the sofa. Then she slid in her head, her shoulders, and the rest of herself.

The space was dim and close. Dusty little bits gathered near her nose. Marmalade tried to turn around, but her back brushed the sofa above her. She stretched one leg, then tucked it in again.

“Not quite,” she said.

Outside the window, the afternoon carried on. Inside, Marmalade backed out from beneath the sofa and sat beside the sunny stripe. She was still hoping to find a place where she could rest all over, not just one paw at a time.

Marmalade stood and gave her coat a careful shake. A tiny fleck of dust floated away. She looked at the sun beneath the sofa, then at the broad room around her.

The patch had moved since it first landed on the rug. Sunlight changed its place as the sun traveled across the sky. Marmalade could not ask it to stay put. She could, however, look for a place where it might rest for a while.

She padded around the sofa and stopped near the window. There, the sun stretched across a wide window seat. A cushion covered the seat from end to end, and the light rested over its middle.

Marmalade looked at the cushion. She looked at the floor. Then she looked back at the cushion.

“Now that looks roomy,” she said.

The window seat was higher than the rug. Marmalade placed her front paws on its edge. She paused to make sure the cushion would hold her. It did not wobble. She pushed up with her back legs and climbed aboard.

The sun warmed the cushion beneath her paws. Marmalade walked to its center, where the light was broadest. She turned around once, then settled with a little sigh. Her body fit neatly on the soft seat. Her tail curled beside her, and the sun lay across her orange back.

At last, she could rest without chasing the light or squeezing beneath the sofa.

A bird called outside. Marmalade listened, but she did not need to look. The room stayed quiet. The clock ticked, the curtains stirred, and the sunny patch held steady on the window seat.

Marmalade blinked slowly. The cushion felt soft beneath her, and soon her eyes had closed. For a while, she rested in the warm afternoon, stretched comfortably on the cushion. The light touched her ears and warmed her paws.

Then, slowly, the patch began to shrink. It slipped away from her tail and moved toward the edge of the seat. Marmalade opened one eye. The room was growing dimmer, and the cushion felt less warm.

She stretched her front legs long, then her back legs. With a quiet yawn, she climbed down from the window seat. Her nap in the sunlight was finished, but Marmalade knew exactly where to go next.

Her cozy bed waited in a quiet corner of the living room. It was a round bed with a plump cushion and a familiar, clean-smelling blanket. Marmalade padded over and paused beside it.

The last daylight lay in a pale stripe on the floor, no longer reaching the window seat. The room was still peaceful. The clock ticked on, and the curtains hung nearly still.

Marmalade stepped into her bed. She turned around once, testing the cushion with her paws. Then she turned once more, just to be certain. The bed gave way beneath her in the nicest way.

She lowered herself onto the blanket. It was not sunny now, but it was cozy. She drew her tail snug against her body and tucked her chin into its fur.

From her bed, she could see the rug where the afternoon had begun. She could see the sofa that had been much too small beneath it. And she could see the window seat, broad and quiet, where she had found the sunny place she needed.

Marmalade blinked slowly. The warm light had moved on, but a little of its warmth seemed to stay in her fur. Her whiskers rested against the blanket. Her ears grew still.

The house settled around her. Somewhere beyond the room, a pipe gave a small click. Marmalade heard it and decided it was nothing to think about. She was comfortable in her bed, and there was nowhere else she needed to be.

She let her eyes close while the soft cushion held her and the afternoon faded into evening.