A Ring of Cinnamon

Wiggling free from the quilted cover by the floor lamp, I trotted toward the woven magazine basket. Resting right on the oak boards was a thick wooden curtain ring tied with a brown cinnamon stick. I stopped, giving the coiled bark a curious sniff. It smelled sweet and peppery. With a polite nudge of my nose, I tested its balance. The ring rocked forward with a hollow wooden clack, rolling an inch before coming to rest against my front paws, leaving a tiny dusting of aromatic powder on the floor.