A Firm Knot

Three thick cinnamon quills had slipped loose from their binding on the oak sideboard, rolling unevenly across the dark wood. I stepped across the smooth surface and crouched beside the fragrant bark. Taking the slack loop of rough jute twine between both hands, I drew the cord taut with steady, measured pressure. The stiff fibers bit into the textured quills with a dry, quiet creak. With patient care, I wedged the frayed knot securely beneath the outer curve of the top quill, locking the three sticks firmly against one another. They rested completely still at last, releasing a faint spicy warmth into the morning quiet.