From the perspective of the flower pot

I feel the first bursts of morning with gentle sun rays caressing my round edges. It feels good. It feels homely. It feels warm. Nothing like the warmth of the sun on cold terracotta skin. The house is asleep except for Cat, he's roaming around the newly sun lit lounge nuzzling the end of the leather coffee table with the look of a satisfied morning on his face. He's slinking towards me, one shoulder blade at a time, his green eyes half open, shielding them from the morning kiss from the sun. I feel the tickle of his feather like hairs as he nuzzles me too. He raises his head to nuzzle a stray leaf from my sprouting mind. He invades my space, forcefully but it's comfortable. I hear the sound of heel to toe movement on the bronze tiles of the house. Mom appears from the hallway looking well rested and at ease, she saunters to the kitchen and flicks the coffee pot switch. Dad makes his appearance too, noticing Cat glistening next to me in the sun, he smiles and calls out to Mom "Have you put the coffee on?"

The End

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