A Silver Trail in the Dark

I slipped outside into the cool air and settled onto a wide, flat flagstone near the flowerbed. In the dim moonlight, a tiny snail was slowly gliding along the rim of an old terracotta pot. I leaned forward, keeping completely still so the fringe across my chest wouldn't sway or startle it. Its glossy shell shifted with each slow stretch, leaving behind a faint, silver ribbon that caught the pale night light. We shared the quiet garden for a long stretch of minutes, watching the stillness, until it slipped beneath a tangle of damp ivy leaves.