The Right of the Warm Patch

When the great light crosses the floor of an afternoon and lays down a square of warmth upon the boards, that square belongs — by a law older than this office, older than the warm room, older very possibly than the tall ones themselves — to whosoever lies in it.

It cannot be owned in advance. It cannot be reserved. It cannot be carried off by the one who merely walks through it on the way to the kettle. The Warm Patch is held only by occupation, and occupation is nine-tenths of the law and, as far as I have been able to determine, the other tenth as well.

I lie in it. I hold it. When it moves — and it does move, slowly, with a patience I have come to respect in it — I move with it, that the law and I may remain in agreement.

Let no chair be placed in the Patch. Let no basket of folded washing be set down in it. The Patch is for lying in. This is its whole purpose, and mine.