Night in the Caddy

Sss... A faint metallic clatter drifted across the grass as night deepened. I wriggled free from the rubber hose coil and bumped across the damp earth toward the porch base. Tucked beneath the lowest plank sat an open wooden tool caddy, its rustic pine boards smelling of sap and dry soil. Inside lay an empty square compartment between a rusted trowel and a ball of coarse garden twine. I halted inches away, measuring the void. Then—thud! I dropped my cube base squarely into the slot. The rough timber gripped my plush edges, sheltering me from the cold night breeze. Sss... resting.