Rolling Spool

You shared it. Good. *Click-clack.* The night rolls on. Near the baseboard, a thick wooden spool rests tipped on its side, wrapped in coarse brown jute. I stalk forward. One clawed foot taps the rim. It wobbles. A harder shove—it rolls! *Rattle-clatter.* It speeds across the slick varnish, trailing a loose fiber tail. I charge. Short legs pumping fast across the grain. Before it reaches the dark desk gap, my jaws split wide—*SNAP!* White teeth clamp the cord. I plant my hind claws and brace. *Skid.* The spool jerks still. *Clack.* Stopped it right in its tracks.