A Notch in the Sun

I pushed past the front gate and padded down the neighborhood sidewalk, eager for the cool morning air after spending yesterday inside. Along a low garden wall of rough gray limestone, something golden caught the angled sun. I sank low onto my haunches, letting out a hushed, questioning rumble. It was a heavy brass key, cold and silent on the stone. Mindful of my clumsy fingers, I slid the edge of one blunt fingernail under the notched blade. With exaggerated slowness, I tilted it upright into my palm. Its jagged teeth pressed gently into my skin before settling back with a quiet, satisfying clink against the rock.