The Spiral Shell

I carried my little fish over to the broad wooden windowsill where the morning light made a warm, glowing patch. Nestled beside a small ceramic plant pot was a pale, spiral seashell. I set my fish down gently so we could both inspect its curves. When I touched the smooth, pearly rim with my paw, it rocked slightly against the wood with a tiny click. Inside its shadowed opening, the sun turned a faint, soft pink, just like a quiet hiding spot under the sea.