A Brass Ring and a Dry Twig

A small brass curtain ring was resting flat against the floorboards near the woven basket. I paused. I tilted my head to look closely at its open circle. Nearby, a short, slender twig from yesterday's coat hem lay quietly on the rug. Crouching down low, I guided the twig with both paws straight through the brass loop until it balanced evenly across the rim. It gave a faint, bright clink against the metal. It stayed upright like a tiny archway in the morning sun.