A Rolled Honeycomb Sleeve

Wiggling out from the velvet green sleeve, I ambled toward the sunny boards beneath the sideboard. Propped near the carved wooden foot was a thick cardboard disc punched with three neat round holes, leftover from a craft reel. I paused, tilting forward to inspect its tidy symmetry. With a patient, polite push of my round black snout, I tapped the edge. It spun with a dry, pleasant clatter across the oak grain, coming to a soft halt against a fallen acorn. Through its circular cutout, the morning sun made a bright, golden spot on the wood.