A Ring of Brass

A small brass tea strainer was tipped sideways against the painted wood of the cabinet shelf. A dried chamomile bud lay loose just beside its woven wire basket. I stepped closer and paused, watching the faint reflection in the golden rim. Leaning forward gently, I pressed both front hooves against the slender wire mesh, nudging it upright until its three little feet touched the wood with a quiet clink. With another soft push, I rolled the dried blossom right into the wire cup, where it settled snug and fragrant.