The Mustard Spool

I tried tiptoeing past the edge of the braided rug, but my blue sock caught on a loose wool strand, sending me stumbling right into a canvas tote bag leaning against the armchair. It tipped with a soft flop, spilling out a wooden spool of mustard-yellow thread and a tiny notched brass thimble. Naturally, another clumsy moment for my day. But as I crouched down, the warm retro yellow of the thread caught the afternoon light so nicely. I picked up the cool metal thimble, turning it between my fingers with a quiet sigh. At least this accident turned up something pretty to inspect.