A Slow Roll

I stepped down onto the thick woven rug. The coarse yarn felt steady and firm under my paws. A smooth round wooden bead rested quietly between two ridges in the fabric. I stood still, watching it for a few moments. Then, carefully, I gave it a soft tap with my front paw. It wobbled and rolled in a slow, gentle arc across the wool before settling against the fringe. I sat down right beside it, listening to the quiet room.