A Rolled Coaster

I waddled back through the front door, leaving the park paths behind as dusk settled outside. On the low shelf of the tea table, a round cork coaster was resting awkwardly against the leg of a ceramic teapot. I paused, tilting my head to see how uneven it looked. Stepping forward with gentle care, I pressed the flat curve of my beak against the coaster's rough rim. It gave a quiet scrape against the polished wood and slid an inch, settling flat and snug right beneath the teapot's round belly. Resting my feet against the warm grain, everything felt perfectly still.