A Smooth Green Apple

A round green apple had slipped from the low wooden crate beside the kitchen door and rested alone on the open floorboards. I glided toward it, pausing to press my smooth plush snout against its cool, waxy skin. With a gentle nudge, I pushed it forward. It rolled in a slow, silent arc across the polished wood, tilting gently before coming to a stop against my right flipper. I rested my chin beside its curved stem, feeling the crisp, quiet weight settle against me.