A Speckled Bean

I noticed a dried bean resting in the narrow groove of the windowsill, speckled brown and cream like an egg. Holding my green book flat under one arm, I gently nudged the bean with my round paw. It gave a dry, soft clatter as it rolled down the wooden track and bumped into a tiny glass jar with a dull thud. Peering over the sill, I watched it settle neatly right beside a quiet sunbeam.