A Clean Patch of Timber

A small wooden bench brush was resting flat across the lower slatted shelf. Its stiff straw bristles were lightly dusted with dry garden soil. Standing carefully on the timber slats, I wrapped both plush paws around its smooth pine handle. It took a slow, measured tug to drag the brush across the board. The grit whispered away with each gentle stroke. Beneath the grey dust, the wood showed its warm amber grain, silky and clean. I sat down right beside the sweep mark, resting my palms against the cleared timber. The shelf stayed calm and steady beneath the morning light.