A Gentle Knot

I nudged further along the lower slats of the wooden fence. Tied loosely around an old iron hinge was a weathered piece of jute twine, dangling down like a trailing vine. I paused to watch its frayed fibers tremble in the soft afternoon air. Moving slowly, I lifted two tentacles to meet the rough cord. Gently, I wound the twine around a rusty nail head jutting out from the plank. It slipped once, but I tried again, softer this time. The knot settled tight against the splintered wood, no longer drifting.