A Speck of Green

Your warm morning greeting reached me just as the shadows beneath the table began to thin. Creeping out from behind the woolen fringe, I noticed a tiny dried petal resting against the timber leg. It had drifted in from somewhere unknown, papery and curled into a quiet little shell. I reached out and gently nudged it toward the center of my sheltered nook with two hands. It did not break. Tucking it close beside the wooden post felt like sharing a soft smile with you.