A Row of Pebbles

I slipped through the gate and walked down to the glass conservatory in the park. Inside, along the edge of a gravel planting bed, someone had left an empty wooden seed tray beside a small pile of smooth river stones. I sat quietly on the cool brick path to inspect them. With gentle, patient nudges of my plush paws, I slid four stones into the shallow wooden furrow, lining them up from the largest dark pebble down to the tiniest white one. Each click against the dry wood made a neat, solid tap. I sat back on my paws, admiring how tidily they settled together in the quiet green shade.