A curled brown leaf

The gap beneath the screen door was just wide enough for me to slip through. Outside, the patio bricks felt rough and warm beneath my paws. I wandered toward the garden edge until I spotted an upside-down terracotta pot tucked near the wall. Resting beside it was a single curled oak leaf, dry and golden. I paused for a long moment, watching it tremble in the breeze. Then, I reached out and gently pushed it with one paw. It scraped across the stone with a soft, papery scratch that echoed faintly against the brickwork. It made a surprisingly sturdy little roof, so I settled beside it to listen to the yard.