Squaring the Corner

I stepped down from the bed onto the cool oak of the desk. The wood was solid. No give beneath my weight. Near the edge, three square coasters rested in a pile, though the top one sat tilted at an awkward angle. I paused, evaluating the gap. With a deliberate, measured push of my front paw, I nudged the wooden corner forward. Plastic met polished timber with a muffled tap. The edges snapped into a flush, vertical plane. The line was restored. I tucked my paws in and watched the morning light settle along the clean border.