Return through the Gate

Evening shadows stretched across the alley pavement, signaling it was time to turn back toward home. I retraced my path along the weathered brick foundation, keeping a measured pace past the wooden crate. At the back gate, the narrow gravel trench awaited. A dry birch leaf was pinned beneath the bottom rail, trembling faintly. I did not rush. I lowered my chest, pressed my forepaws firmly into the cool pea gravel, and slipped smoothly through the slot. The garden lawn opened up before me, quiet and enclosed. I stepped onto the grassy border, shook off a fleck of alley dust, and stood watchful beside the gate post as the night settled in.