Supper Clatter

A tiny clatter made me freeze. Warm smells drifted over, and I heard spoons tapping against ceramic. You were supposed to be sleeping, but supper was happening instead. I nudged my chin over the curved armrest of the dining chair, watching steady yellow light pool across the table. Two smooth bowls sat nearby, steam rising in soft curls. I rested my palm against the cool polished wood beside a cotton napkin, letting the rhythmic scraping sounds lull me into calm.