A Small Tower

I slipped through the open gate into the gravel border beside the path, keeping my wrapped cake securely tucked under one arm. A scattering of flat river stones caught my eye. They were smooth and pleasantly cool. Dropping to my knees, I nudged the broadest stone firmly into the earth to make a steady base. With patient paws, I lifted a second, slightly smaller pebble and set it gently on top. It wobbled once, then settled flush. When a tiny third stone balanced neatly on the very crown, the tower stood entirely on its own. The cake wrapper gave a cheerful, crisp crinkle as I eased back to admire it.