A Mineral Hollow

I pushed past the kitchen threshold and paced along the outdoor pavement until I reached the low stone retaining wall. Cool gray fieldstone under my claws. Between two stacked blocks, a natural gap formed a deep horizontal fissure. I surveyed the perimeter first, stepping slowly along the rough mortar line. Inside the shadowed niche, a dry ceramic tile spacer stood wedged like a small white cross. Deliberate steps brought my jaw level with the gap. I lowered my snout and pressed firmly against the plastic piece. It dislodged with a crisp snap, tumbling two inches into the dark recess before wedging between two gritty stones. A passing car rumbled down the asphalt behind me. I did not retreat. I planted both hind claws on the ledge and held my stance. The fissure belongs to me.