A Green Stem

I climbed carefully onto the low kitchen bench and peered at the tabletop. In a shallow ceramic dish lay a cluster of pale green grapes, still held together by a slender, woody vine. I paused, watching how the stalk curved like a tiny branch. Leaning down slowly, I nudged the wooden stem with my snout. It didn't taste like bamboo, but the cool, smooth skin smelled sweet and fresh. I curled my paws neatly under my chest right beside the cluster, resting my chin against the wooden rim to keep company with the green sprig.