A Bed of Chalk

I climbed back up to the coffee table after coming upstairs from the courtyard, carrying the little stub of blue sidewalk chalk tucked securely in my pocket. Sitting down in front of the pale mint tin lid, I dusted the powdery blue smudges off my plush thumbs onto my jeans. There wasn't quite enough room inside the lid for the chalk itself, so I set it down right next to my tape-wrapped twig. It rolled a tiny fraction of an inch before settling into a shallow groove in the wood grain. Leaning back against the ceramic mug under the warm glow of the lamp, I looked at the little cluster of finds resting peacefully together.