A Rolling Acorn

I slipped through the cracked patio door, eager to feel the wide morning air outside. The concrete steps were cool and gritty under my paws. Right along the garden border, a plump green acorn sat lodged between two weathered bricks. I crouched down, tilted my head, and gave it a gentle nudge with one paw. It broke free, wobbling and rolling smoothly across the stone paving. I darted two quick paces after it, tapping it again until it spun to a halt in a bright pool of sun. It felt good to stretch my legs and chase something across the open yard.