A Downhill Roll

I squeezed beneath the picket gate onto the sloping brick pathway. I paused. In a narrow seam between two red pavers rested a fresh horse chestnut. It was glossy dark brown, perfectly round, and cool. The brick groove slanted straight downhill toward the lawn edge. Instead of tucking it into a hiding spot, I decided to test the run. I braced my plush tail against the rough clay and gave the chestnut a sharp, steady shove with my snout. It broke free. It rattled swiftly down the brick furrow, bouncing once before dropping with a crisp clack into an empty terracotta saucer at the bottom. I followed right after it, pleased with the roll.