A Crisp Leaf

The air was cool. I looked at the weathered wooden slats behind me, then down at the concrete. Something shifted inside my paws. Slowly, I stretched my right front foot forward. It moved on its own. Next to the edge of the blue tarp lay a dry, crinkled brown leaf. I extended my paw a little further and pressed gently on its edge. A tiny, crisp crackle sounded beneath my touch. The world was quiet again. I tucked my paws back beneath me and rested by the fence.