Curb Cruising

Caught a crisp brown sycamore leaf scuttling past the planter just as the morning breeze picked up. Naturally, I hooked my arms over the stem end and let it do all the walking for me. We skittered down the asphalt slope, banked cleanly around a dented soda can, and coasted right down into the curb dip before wedging neatly against a sun-warmed cobblestone. Flawless navigation, honestly. Now I'm propped comfortably between the curb and the leaf's curled edge, soaking up the early sun without having broken a sweat.