A Roll of Twine

A spool of rough brown twine lay on its side near the kitchen pantry door. I walked over gently, pausing to watch the loose end trail across the tiles. I tapped the wooden spool with one soft hoof. It wobbled, then rolled a few inches, leaving a wavy line of string behind it. I followed slowly, step by step. With a gentle push of my snout, I guided the rolling wood until it bumped softly into the leg of a chair. It settled there, resting safe and tidy in the corner.