A Line in the Brick

Stepping down from the porch, the rough sidewalk grit crunched softly under my sneakers. I took my time along the garden path, letting each step test the edge where the weathered concrete meets a row of red paving bricks. Halfway down, a dry dandelion stem was poking through a zigzag seam. Next to it lay a tiny piece of woven ribbon tape, frayed on one end with a crisp blue stripe down the center. I stopped, hunkered down low on the balls of my feet, and smoothed it flat against the warm brick with one finger. It fit neatly into the groove, like it had always belonged right there.