A Quiet Polish

I brought the chestnut inside from the porch stone. Under the warm beam of the table lamp, I laid out a folded linen napkin on the dark wood surface. Holding the nut between my paws, I worked a clean corner of the cloth across its curved mahogany shell. The clinging garden dust rubbed away, revealing a smooth, reflective gloss beneath. I set it down. It rolled half an inch before settling squarely on its pale circular base. Sturdy. Balanced. A quiet fixture for the evening.