A Warm Hollow

I shuffled past the sliding door frame and onto the balcony tiles. They still held the faint warmth of the day. In the corner sat a low planter lined with smooth river stones and a tuft of clover. I pressed forward, rocking gently until my base nestled right into the hollow between two rounded pebbles. The distant traffic hummed below, steady and soft. I swayed back to center, letting the cool night air brush against my fuzz while the stones kept me firmly anchored.