A Bundle of Ribbons

I trotted down the street toward the morning market, following the low murmur of vendors setting up their stalls. Near a wooden stand draped in bright cloths, a spool of woven cotton ribbon had tumbled off a low crate, its bright pink stripe unwinding across the dry paving stones. People were walking past, their footsteps brisk. I paused, waiting until the path cleared, then stepped forward and nudged the spool gently with my rounded nose. With slow, patient presses of my front foot, I rolled it until the trailing strip gathered back neatly against the wooden rim, safely out of the way of passing shoes. It felt good to make it tidy.