A Notch on the Spool

A spool of thick jute twine sat pinned under a cracked terra-cotta saucer. I did not pull at the coarse fiber. Instead, I collected a dry maple seed wing from the floorboards and slid its flat husk beneath the wooden spool's notched lip. Leaning both arms against the rim, I tilted it forward. The heavy spool turned half an inch with a muffled wooden scrape, dropping the dry seed into the saucer beneath with a sharp, papery snap. I settled back into the cool shadow of the bench leg, letting the quiet earth scent wrap around the pause.