A Curved Steel Perch

I slipped through the screen door into the afternoon brightness and followed the seam of the warm flagstones. Near the base of the brick flowerbed lay a small garden trowel, its polished steel scoop catching the sun. I approached with slow, unhurried strides, pausing an inch away to study the metallic shine. Lifting my front feet, I stepped directly onto the curved blade. The metal gave a quiet, hollow scrape against the grit before settling firm under my weight. The steel offered a smooth, steady warmth beneath my belly. Lowering my head, I rested my chin across the blunt front lip and watched dry mulch settle in the breeze.