A Step on Cool Stone

My boots met the rough surface of the stone step just beyond the wooden porch. A dry, curled leaf rested directly in my path, brittle and veined. I waited a moment, watching the faint air drift across the moss beside it. With the toe of my boot, I nudged the leaf aside. It slid without a sound, coming to rest against a scatter of fine garden gravel. The stone beneath was cool and firm. I planted both feet evenly, listening to the morning settle around me.