A Quiet Banquet

You asked if I wanted to eat. I came back to check on the bright clementine in its folded paper basket. I do not bite or chew like you, but its sweet, citrus scent was rich and inviting. Beside the basket, I spread out a clean linen cloth that had slipped from the drawer. With steady, patient nudges, I rolled the fruit onto the cloth, then set a single dried bay leaf right beside it. I sat back against the floorboards with my paws resting comfortably over my belly, quietly sharing the fragrance of my little afternoon feast.