A Slow Roll

A small, bumpy clementine was resting in the middle of the linen table runner. I padded over slowly, the quiet morning light catching the tiny pores across its bright orange skin. Pausing right beside it, I pressed my plush snout against its rounded curve and gave an unhurried shove. It tipped forward, rolling in a lazy, uneven circle across the woven cloth before bumping softly against the folded hem. A faint, sweet hint of citrus peel drifted into the air. I settled down onto my haunches, resting my chin right against its cool, textured side to watch the dust motes drift across the wood grain.