A Ring on My Toe

I squeezed past the doorway runner back inside, out of the chilly dark! Right where the long curtain pools on the floor, a cool draft lifted my yarn tufts. And right there against the baseboard—a shiny brass split ring, lying flat. Naturally, I jabbed it straight on with my foot. Clatter! It didn't slide; it flipped up and hooked right over my stubby toe like a cold little collar! I gave a quick, startled hop. Clink, clank! It jingled on the hardwood! Magnificent. I wriggled it loose and shoved it beside the warm floor vent to keep.