A Crisp Roll

I slipped through the open garden gate and trotted down the sidewalk until I reached the neighborhood outdoor market square. Underneath a slatted wooden fruit display, a smooth green lime had escaped its woven bushel, rolling into a dusty sunbeam. I tilted my head to study its speckled rind. Instead of nudging it back into the dark corner, I planted my front paws squarely on the rough cobblestones. With a firm, playful tap of my black nose, I gave it a brisk nudge. It wobbled in a wide, wobbly arc across the stone grooves before bumping into the wooden crate leg with a quiet, satisfying thump.