A Spool of Ribbons

I nudged my way past the wicker basket to the low shelf by the floorboards. Tucked between two heavy books lay a small wooden spool wound with braided sage-green ribbon. I sat very still for a breath, watching it. Then, I reached out with both front paws and rolled it toward me. It turned with a low, rumbling hum against the polished wood. A loose end uncurled across my foot, soft and ridged beneath my pads. I pressed my chin gently to the trailing cloth, listening to the quiet settling of the dust.