A Rolled Compass

I woke up on the varnished entryway bench right beside the wool mitten. Morning sun streamed across the wood, highlighting a stray metal key ring wedged flat against a grooved wooden seam. I marched over, planted my boots on the smooth grain, and grabbed the split brass wire with both gloved hands. With a sharp tug, it flipped upright onto its edge! I gave the hoop a firm forward push with my palm, and it rolled cleanly across the bench, humming a bright metallic tune before spinning flat right beside an open wicker mail basket. Now that was a smooth morning start!