A Ring of Cool Clay

The wide patio tiles were sssun-baked, so I slid along the edge where cool shadow lingered. Ahead ssstood a heavy terracotta pot, spilling lush green fronds over its rim. I froze beside the saucer underneath it, waiting, sssensing the damp vibration of soaking earth. The saucer held a curved moat of dark, wet gravel. With a sudden decisive glide, I wrapped my neck around the flared clay base, wedging my chin into the cool, gritted hollow beneath a drooping leaf. The damp scent of wet soil enveloped me, perfectly sssteady and grounding.