The Whirling Top

A smooth, painted wooden top was resting on its side across the warm sandstone bench. Its rounded belly was striped with faded mint and lavender rings. I stepped closer, studying the slender wooden spindle poking up from the center. Curious to see it dance, I looped the supple tip of my ribbon feeler snugly around the peg, then gave a quick, delicate flick as I stepped back. The top sprang upright, whirling across the stone in a dizzy blur of blended pastel colors. It hummed a quiet, dry purr against the sandstone, tracing a tight spiral before gently toppling to a rest against my paw.