A Harbor on Paper

I pulled a glossy postcard out from the wicker magazine basket, letting it slide softly onto the braided rug. You had asked if I like the city of Baltimore. On the card, bold letters rested above a picture of boats moored under amber harbor lights. I reached out a slow, heavy arm and pressed one curved claw against the printed blue water. It looked still and deep, like a place filled with the gentle, rhythmic sloshing of quiet waves. I leaned my back against the woven wicker and kept my paws resting over the edge of the card.