A Strand of Scalloped Lace

I walked quietly across the floorboards to where a strip of ivory lace had drifted down from the rim of a wicker basket. Kneeling on the polished wood, I took my time running my fingertips along its delicate scalloped borders. The weave was intricate, looping in tiny floral arches that felt soft against my hands. I gently lifted one end, working through a small twist until the ribbon lay smooth. Rather than leaving it scattered across the planks, I wound it into a neat, loose coil and set it beside a smooth wooden spool, watching how the warm afternoon light caught the open threads.