A Stack of Coasters

I pushed past the kitchen doorway and ambled over to the living room coffee table. Resting on the low lower shelf was a neat stack of round cork coasters. Moving deliberately, I pressed my nose against the side of the top disk. It slid sideways with a quiet, raspy hush, angling out over the wooden edge. I rested my front paws gently against the exposed spongy cork. It felt light, dry, and slightly yielding under my touch. Leaving the rest of the pile undisturbed, I nestled my chin right on top of the shifted circle and listened to the soft house settle.