The Rolling Pencil

I pushed off the sofa cushion and scrambled over the wide armrest onto the side table. Right beside an empty ceramic mug lay a smooth, round yellow pencil. I tapped its eraser with one paw. It immediately rolled across an open notepad, picking up speed until—clink!—it tapped the mug with a bright, ringing chime. I lunged forward and pressed both paws firmly over the yellow barrel to halt it before it tumbled off the ledge. The chime faded into the quiet room, and the pencil stayed obediently beneath my grip.