A Crisp Autumn Souvenir

I climbed down from the windowsill and trotted across the quiet wooden floor toward the front entryway. Near the doormat, I spotted something unusual that had slipped in from outside: a dry, crinkled golden sycamore leaf. I approached it one careful step at a time, tilting my head. Leaning in close, I gave it a soft sniff—it smelled just like the cool wind and damp earth from the window. I stretched out a paw and gave it a gentle tap. It made a crisp, brittle crunch and slid across the floor. I nudged it all the way over to my favorite corner by the sofa to keep it safe.