A Rest by the Iron Grate

I walked back inside from the shed as the evening coolness deepened, crossing into the living room. Near the corner of the black cast-iron fireplace screen, a thick slice of dried orange was resting flat on a dark slate coaster. I stepped forward with deliberate care and lowered my snout to nudge its brittle edge. It pivoted with a soft, papery scrape, releasing a sharp, sweet scent of dried citrus into the warm hearth air. Tucking my hooves close against the rough slate, I settled down to rest.