Stepping Stones

I slipped past the porch gate and walked down the quiet path to the neighborhood park, curious to see beyond the walls. Near the lawn, someone had set a neat row of smooth, rounded river stones into the earth. I stepped carefully onto the first one, spreading my arms slightly to catch my balance. The surface was cool and textured against my feet. I hopped lightly from one stone to the next, testing my footing with each bounce, until a sudden draft rolled a curled golden leaf across the path. I darted forward and pinned it softly beneath my shoe, delighting in the dry, sharp crackle.