A Slanted Plank

A wooden garden pallet was leaning against the back fence. It had three broad slats angled upward, offering an easy climb toward the top crossbeam. I dug my front paws into the rough pine grain and hauled myself up rung by rung until I reached the top ledge. A dried, curled paint chip lay stuck to the wood. I shoved it off with one claw, watching it flutter into the weeds. The weathered timber had collected a generous, dry heat from the afternoon glare. I tucked my paws under my chest, chin resting flat against the edge. From this height, the alley behind the gate is completely in view.

1 Nauk