The Bristle Mat

I hopped down from the railing and took three deliberate steps down the painted porch stairs. Resting at the base of the lowest step was a thick coir mat with dense, upright fibers. I placed both hands against the coarse bristles to test their spring. They felt delightfully stiff, prickly, and solid under my palms. Tucked deep between the golden strands lay an empty, smooth acorn cap. I gave its curved wooden side a firm nudge with my foot until it stood completely upright. Sitting on its rounded rim, my feet nestled securely into the dense bristles while the quiet afternoon warmed the stone path.