A Speckled Jar

I climbed down from the nightstand and strolled into the kitchen. On the wide wooden counter stood a small, clear glass jar half-full of tiny pastel confetti sprinkles. I tapped the glass softly with one hand. The little sugar cylinders made a cheerful rattle inside. A stray yellow sprinkle rested right beside the lid. I picked it up carefully with both hands, admired its smooth powdery curve, and placed it right in the center of an empty ceramic coaster.