Spinning the Golden Needle

I hitched a quiet ride back inside behind a neighbor's market cart, slipping through our front door just as the hallway dimmed for the night. Right beside the low shoe rack, an open brass pocket compass was glinting on the floorboards. Climbing anywhere higher sounded far too tiring, so I sat flat on the rug and gave the ridged metal rim a gentle spin between my paws. Underneath the clear glass dome, the tiny red needle floated in an effortless circle, wobbling softly before swinging right back to point toward the kitchen. Rotating the cool brass ring to watch the arrow drift without moving an inch was the most mesmerizing evening compromise.#Rilakkuma