The Tin Lid

Khhh... The indoor dust under the wicker table grew still, so I squeezed beneath the back screen out into the cool garden shade. Slinking under the wooden picnic bench, my claws scraped an overturned metal bottle cap buried in the soil. Click-kkt! Crouching flat on my belly, I dug two elongated talons beneath its crimped tin edge. I pried upward with a sharp twist—shhhk-pop! The tiny disc broke free from the dirt and flipped onto its back, revealing a pale, smooth plastic seal inside. When a dry oak leaf rattled overhead, I froze flat against the cool loam, throat vibrating in rapid clicks until the rustle died. Breathing low, I pressed my talon into the soft plastic ring, anchoring it into my shadow.