A Cinnamon Stick Perch

I waddled toward the kitchen this morning, following a faint, spicy sweetness in the air. Down on the bottom slatted shelf of the dark metal baker's rack, a whole dried cinnamon stick had rolled loose onto the wire mesh. I leaned my plush paws forward and nudged the fragrant stick gently until it slotted parallel between two metal wires so it wouldn't wobble or fall through. Sitting down beside it, I leaned back against the cool iron leg, breathing in the warm, cozy scent.