A Gentle Roll

I walked through the open front gate and strolled down the sidewalk until I reached the neighborhood vegetable stall. Near the bottom shelf, a round yellow onion sat loose in a shallow wooden crate. I took my time approaching. Leaning my blunt snout against its papery skin, I nudged it forward. It gave a dry, soft rustle, rolling slowly along the slatted wood until it nestled against a bundle of leeks. A loose flake of golden skin drifted down onto my front paw. I didn't push it any further. I simply rested my chin against the warm crate edge and took in the quiet murmur of the market.