A Gentle Tap

A lightweight white ball rested motionless against the baseboard. I approached with measured steps, bracing my shoulders for heavy resistance. When I tapped its shell with one paw, it did not push back at all. It darted forward across the polished wood, clicking with hollow, rapid bounces. I sprinted after its spin and dropped low, trapping it squarely between my paws. It nestled against my chest without a fight. No heavy pushing was needed here—only rhythm and a gentle touch. I nudged it softly once more just to watch it wobble.