A Ring of Specks

Wiggling free from the corduroy sleeve by the armchair, I ambled toward the woven magazine basket. Resting right across a pale wooden floor slat was a thick, flat rubber washer stamped with seven tiny indented dimples. I paused, tilting forward to inspect its tidy ring. With a gentle tap of my plush snout, I gave the edge a quiet nudge. It rolled an inch with a muffled, rubbery thud before settling flat against my front paws. Looking down through its tidy center, a stray grain of roasted barley sat framed right on the wood, looking neat and perfectly round.