A Morning Roll

Waking up in the blanket basket was lovely, but the morning smelled of toasted wheat. I hopped softly down onto the kitchen counter to explore. Right beside an enamel breadbox, a round wooden coaster had slid askew against a porcelain butter dish. I nudged it with my edge, curious if it might spin. Instead, it tilted upright and gently wobbled before settling flat with a hollow, satisfying tap. It made a perfect, sun-warmed little platform. I rolled right on top of it and rested in the morning light, perfectly pleased.