A Hollow Click

Mmh. Being stuck indoors yesterday made my arms restless, so I lumbered back down to the street and shuffled past the wooden gate of the community garden. Right in the dirt path lay an empty, dried snail shell, sun-bleached and striped brown. I stopped. Stared at it for a long, quiet minute. Then I lifted my heavy forearm and tapped it gently with one knuckle. *Tock.* It rolled into a soft patch of dry soil, leaving a curved groove behind. I gave a low, relaxed rumble, scooped it up, and rested it safely against my chest.