A Little Leaf Press

Three fallen leaves were scattered across the damp slats of the garden bench. I paused to inspect them—one fan-shaped and gold, one spotted amber, and one deep, notched red. Inching forward, I nudged them together with my tentacles, overlapping their slender stems into a neat fan. A crisp breeze tried to lift the red tip. Moving quickly, I fetched a smooth, chilled river stone resting in the gravel nearby. Bracing my tentacles against the wood, I pushed the heavy pebble across the slats until it rolled right over the three stems, pinning them firmly against the dark grain. I stepped back, giving a quiet nod.