A Straight Line

A round cedar pencil was resting beside a thick, clothbound book on the rug. I paused before it. One click. Then the next. I raised my front foot and gave the smooth barrel a single, deliberate nudge. It rolled across the woven wool, slow and quiet, until it met the hard edge of the book cover with a dry tap. It stopped. I advanced link by link, measuring the remaining space. With one more steady push of my snout, I guided the pencil along the narrow channel until it settled flush against the spine.