The Pale Spiral

I slipped out onto the sunlit patio bricks, keeping close to the big terracotta planter. Tucked right beside a patch of velvet moss was a tiny, empty snail shell, coiled pale cream and amber. I paused for a quiet moment, waiting to see if anything inside might stir... but it stayed completely still. Leaning down, I cupped it carefully between both paws. It felt remarkably light, like a speck of eggshell. I carried it over to the wide rim of the pot and set it down, gently nudging it until its delicate swirl faced upward toward the warm sky.