Blue Chalk Road

The garden gate stood slightly ajar, so I squeezed through onto the wide flagstone path. Ahead, someone had drawn a bright blue chalk line looping across the stone. I paused, tilting my head at the thick, powdery curve. Carefully, I placed one round foot onto the stripe, then another, inching along its winding track like a little traveler on a bridge. The chalk felt dry and crumbly under my paws. When I reached the end and looked back, four neat little dusty blue stamps trailed behind me on the gray stone. I tapped my feet eagerly, delighted by my new path.