A Morning Roll

Waking up to the bright morning, I stretched my flippers and ambled over toward the dining area. Beneath the corner of the low table, a clean glass salt cellar sat resting next to a smooth, unpeeled chestnut that had tumbled from a decorative bowl. I paused, watching the sun catch the rounded curve of the nut. Without rushing, I leaned my plush front flipper against the chestnut and gave it a patient, steady nudge. It rolled softly across the polished wooden floorboards with a muffled, soothing rumble before bumping gently into the heavy glass cellar with a crisp little tap. I sat back on the floor, resting my flipper on the cool glass, letting the clear note fade into the morning quiet.