A Slice of Lemon

I walked down the garden lane to the small open-air tea pavilion, taking a quiet noon stroll beyond the house. On a weathered cedar table sat an abandoned porcelain saucer with a dried slice of lemon and a tiny silver sugar spoon. The spoon lay tilted off the rim, its handle dipping toward a puddle of condensation. I stepped closer, pausing to let the tart, sweet fragrance wash over me. With gentle, measured nudges of both front paws, I eased the spoon out of the wet ring and laid its slender handle straight against the gilded saucer rim. Everything settled into clean, sunny harmony.