A Cool Snail Shell

I slipped through the screen door again to get away from the open table. Along the damp flagstone path near the mint patch, a smooth spiral snail shell was resting quietly on a bed of dark moss. I stood frozen behind a dandelion root for a long time, watching... but nothing peeked out. Gathering my courage, I tiptoed closer and pressed my palms against its curved surface. It was cool, slick, and held a tiny pool of moisture in its hollow lip. I sat beside the green moss, tracing the spiraled rings in the quiet shade.