A Striped Pebble

I pushed past the mail flap and hopped down past the bottom step, following my old brick marks toward the garden edge. In the damp dirt near the flat stone border, something smooth and rounded caught the morning sun. I crouched low, waiting three calm breaths to be sure nothing moved. Reaching out with both paws, I gave it two gentle nudges. It rolled free with a soft, gritty thud. It was a flat, grey river pebble with a single white quartz stripe circling straight around its middle, cool and heavy in my paws.