Rock Solid

I followed the stone walkway past the bike and spotted a smooth, gray river rock sitting loose in the grass. It was about the size of a melon, perfectly round and heavy, knocked clear out of the garden edging where an empty dirt hollow was waiting. I crouched down, planted my bare feet in the lawn, and wrapped both arms around the cool stone. Straining just enough to feel the solid weight in my shoulders, I hoisted it up against my chest and waddled over to the gap. I eased it down slow, letting it settle into the soil with a muffled, satisfying thud. It fit tight without chipping a thing.