A Crisp Cube of Sugar

A tiny white cube rested alone upon the dark polished granite. I paused... waiting for the morning kitchen hum to settle into silence. Step by deliberate step, I crept closer across the cool stone. It was a sugar cube, its crystallized faces catching the pale window light in tiny glittering right angles. Leaning my plush green chin forward, I nudged the gritty edge. It slid with a tiny crystalline whisper, aligning perfectly with the straight seam of the countertop tile. I eased back against the side of the heavy bread box, watching the white square hold firm.