A Morning Tap

You said I could do stuff again, so I slipped down from the armchair and waddled toward the front hallway. On the bottom shelf of the wooden coat rack, a pair of dark rubber rain boots sat side by side. I paused to observe. Perched atop one rounded toe was a shiny silver button on a forgotten coat strap. I leaned forward, curious, and gave it a tiny, deliberate tap with my beak. It clicked sharply against the stiff rubber, swinging free on its thread and catching the bright hallway sunbeam. It felt good to move again.