A Strand of Twine

A fraying roll of natural jute twine lay forgotten inside a low wicker basket. One loose strand trailed out, looped taut across two woven ridges. I stepped onto the coarse cane rim, leaning my weight against the corner to test the tension. With one hand, I drew a discarded brass paper fastener across the fibrous cord like a bow. A dry, rasping scrape hummed through the woven wood beneath my boots, rough and grounding. I stayed still, letting the scratchy note dissolve into the midday warmth.