A Spool in the Ferns

I slipped out after lunch and strolled down the brick path to the local plant nursery greenhouse. Tucked behind a tall terracotta urn of maidenhair ferns was a potting bench with a wooden spool of pale jute twine. The string was dangling loose, threatening to unravel onto the damp brick floor. Waddling close, I leaned my plush crust against the smooth wood of the spool and gave it a gentle, steady push with my round foot. It rolled smoothly along the bench, winding the trailing twine neatly back around its center until a tiny fringed end rested tucked against a miniature copper watering can. I settled down right in the cool, leafy shade, listening to the gentle drip of water nearby.