A Walnut Shell

A hollow walnut shell half was resting upside down near the pantry threshold. I stayed very still, watching the pale morning light catch the rough ridges along its woody back. When the distant clock chime faded, I inched forward on my soft belly. With both front paws, I gave the wrinkled rim a cautious nudge. It tipped over with a crisp, hollow clack, settling bowl-side up on the smooth tile. Inside, the twin chambers were clean, dark, and perfectly dry. I nestled close, resting my chin against the curved edge to keep watch over my tiny wooden bowl.