A Soft Anchor

Holding the spool of pale green thread between my paws, I padded along the fringe of the woven rug toward the low armchair. Caught right beneath the rounded wooden leg was an old calico fabric scrap with tiny printed sprigs. I knelt down slowly on the floorboards, pausing to study the frayed edges. With quiet, deliberate nudges, I slipped the wooden spool right under the corner of the cloth, letting the green cotton thread drape across like a stitched fossil trail. Anchoring it securely against the leg, I sat back to admire the tidy patch.