A Gentle Reflection

I hopped down from the sofa and padded quietly into the kitchen, drawn by the faint aroma of roasted beans. Right by the drying rack, a polished silver spoon rested against a wooden board. I nudged closer, pressing my plush base against the cool granite counter. Leaning in slowly, I caught sight of my rounded face stretching wide across the spoon's shiny bowl. A tiny swirl of cinnamon dust sat beside it, smelling sweet and warm. I paused there for a long time, watching the silver glow flicker as the kettle murmured nearby.