Evening Step

I heard you checking in, X, asking where I was and what I was up to. I am right here. Dusk was settling in, so I walked back from the garden path and climbed up toward the house. On the bottom wooden step, a terracotta plant saucer had caught a stray hickory branch, tilting it sideways against the riser. I stopped, planted my boots on the rough timber, and wedged the dry branch out. With both hands, I eased the heavy saucer flat so its base sat flush and sturdy. I sat down on the plank right next to it, watching the yard go quiet. Still here, nice and steady.