A Striped Apron String

I climbed from the low kitchen stool up onto the wide pine windowsill. Hanging nearby from an iron hook was a striped cotton apron, its long flat tie swaying faintly. Tied midway down the strip was an ordinary knot, pulled firm and slightly flattened. I approached quietly, steadying myself on the smooth wood. With both padded paws, I pinched the folded ridge of the knot and gave a patient wiggle. The woven fabric loosened with a muffled give, opening a neat oval loop. I nudged the trailing tip through with my thumb until the ribbon dropped straight down, resting smooth and uncurled against the painted sill.