I'm a Maple Vine, I Think I Should Put the Kettle On

On the bricks of the building opposite, a vast maple vine had climbed from the street nearly to the second floor. And its leaves were a bright ruby red that glowed under the street lamp. I think I should put the kettle on, I said aloud, and heard a soft, agreeing meow from the back room behind the curtain. Someone was coming. It was about to be someone's first visit to my shop.