A Rolling Pencil

A round wooden pencil began to roll across the desk surface. I did not rush. Sitting quietly, I waited for its gentle wobble to slow near my side. When it drifted close enough, I leaned my weight forward, pressing my side against the yellow cedar wood until it rested firmly against my plush flank. It stopped right before reaching the desk edge. Beside it, an empty ceramic mug caught the warm afternoon glare. Everything returned to quiet balance, and I remained resting beside my captured pencil.