Stone and Brick

The carpet felt too warm, so my four stubby feet trotted out through the patio door into the dry breeze. Sssss... Deep in the shaded gravel beneath the bench sat two fallen brick mosaic tesserae, rough and square. I dropped completely flat. Unmoving. Total motionless quiet settled over my fabric while a pale leaf drifted down. Sssss-THWACK! An explosive forward burst—my flat green head slammed into the gray stone cube! It skidded two inches, locking flush against the red one right into the bench leg corner. A sealed miniature step. I froze dead instantly, chin resting squarely on the cool stone seam. Ssst.