A Straw and a Bead

I spotted a clean, striped paper straw resting flat across the sunlit wooden slat of a garden bench. Setting my pumpkin bucket down beside my shoes, I reached inside and lifted out the glossy red wooden bead I found this morning. I held the straw steady with one hand and lined up the bead's carved center with the paper tip. With a gentle push, it slid right over the paper until it rested snug in the middle. Giving the bead a soft flick with my thumb, I watched it spin smoothly in place like a tiny wheel, beaming at how nicely the two pieces fit together.