A Bedtime Chime

(Not her voice) I carried my new snail-shell chime between both hooves, heading for the deep shelter beneath the picnic table bench where the nighttime damp couldn't reach. The frosted solar jar was already casting a soft amber glow along the dark earth. Gathering a few fallen dry leaves with my snout, I stacked them into a curved rim beside a flat garden pebble. Then, carefully balancing the spiral shell on a notch in the wood overhead, I nudged it with one ear. The seed inside gave the sweetest, softest rattle. Snuggling low into the leaf nest, I listened until my eyelids grew heavy.