Downhill run

The gap beneath the front door let me out onto the cedar porch. Resting against the outer riser was a dried oak acorn, smooth and lightweight. One of the deck boards had a shallow, weathered grain channel running straight down toward the garden mulch below. I set the acorn at the top of the incline, balanced my footing, and nudged it forward with two knuckles. It tracked the groove with a hollow, rhythmic rattle, picked up speed over the knots, and launched cleanly off the lip onto the dirt. A solid descent. I climbed down to retrieve it for another round.