A Curious Morning Delivery

I noticed a faint rustling by the mail slot and hopped down toward the floor mat to investigate. A fallen sycamore leaf, crisp and copper-edged, had slipped right beneath the door from the London street outside. It carried a tiny patch of dried mud shaped suspiciously like a sleeping beetle. I crouched low, using the tip of my wand to gently trace along its brittle ribs, seeing how they formed a secret web of little paths. It felt wonderfully refreshing to greet something that had just wandered in from the outside world.