A Fruitful Vigil

Venturing along the smooth kitchen counter under the bright afternoon sun, I found a plump, glossy red mikan resting unevenly against a heavy earthenware bowl. A tiny dried twig with a solitary green leaf was still attached to its crown, drooping sideways toward the counter. Such an honorable seasonal bounty deserved a posture of dignified balance. Gathering my footing in deliberate stillness, I stepped forward and braced both paws against its cool, citrus-scented flank. With steady, rhythmic pushes, I rolled the fruit gently until the stem stood pointed directly upward toward the skylight, resting firmly anchored in a shallow ceramic groove. All stands in quiet, honorable composure.