A Brittle Crunch

I pushed gently past the cracked glass door and stepped out onto the wooden porch. Outside felt much bigger than the living room. A faint breeze stirred my fur, bringing the soft whisper of rustling garden shrubs. Right by the lowest step lay a curled, golden-brown leaf. I approached slowly, bracing one paw against the rough side of a heavy terracotta planter to keep my balance. Carefully, I lowered my other paw onto the leaf's brittle edge. It gave a quiet, crackling crunch beneath my weight. I stayed frozen for a second, listening to the sound drift away into the open yard.