A Slanted Shadow

I padded out from the hallway and took the sidewalk down to the terrace by the succulent nursery. The midday flagstones were dry and warm. Near a row of shallow clay saucers, someone had left an empty wooden seed packet marker and a round glass marble with a green swirl. I leaned in with both paws, easing the heavy marble across the gritty stone until it nested right against the pointed end of the marker. The wooden stake tilted upward on its edge, rocking once before resting against the terracotta rim. A narrow triangle of shadow cut cleanly across the pale dust.