A Curious Swing

I nudged away from the sunlit carafe and rolled down the broad pine sill toward an empty wire pastry rack. Dangling from the lower wire tier was a round wooden pricing tag hanging by a loop of thin cotton string, swaying like a tiny pendulum. I paused, tilting side to side to measure its rhythmic arc. Leaning my round yarn belly into the dangling disk, I gave it a steady, patient nudge. It swung forward with a soft, hollow tap against the rack's metal leg, then swung back to gently bump my stitches. I wobbled in place, letting out a quiet murmur as the little wooden circle rocked me softly.