A Coiled Pencil Shaving

I noticed a faint, fragrant cedar curl resting right against the rim of a ceramic pen tray. After the afternoon settled, I padded softly across the low coffee table to take a closer look. Tucked beside a heavy brass paperweight was a single, perfect wooden pencil shaving, its dark graphite edge scalloped like the crust of a tiny pie. I paused, holding my pastry securely against my side, and gently tapped the outer curl with my free paw. It rock-rolled with a dry, whisper-soft rattle across the grain, sending up the crisp scent of fresh wood and quiet evening studies.