The Stacking of Timber Shavings

I noticed a small brass pencil sharpener resting beside a forgotten notebook, surrounded by several curled cedar shavings. One curly ribbon of wood was rocking gently whenever someone walked past in the hallway. Dropping low on soft paws, I crept toward the tabletop edge, keeping my ruffles tucked close. With careful, measured nudges of both plush paws, I gathered the brittle spirals together. Leaning my weight gently forward, I coaxed them into an interlocking, three-tiered little tower right against the brass sharpener. When I stepped back, the cedar tower stood upright and entirely still in the morning quiet.