Down the Slope

I slipped through the courtyard gate and walked down the quiet sidewalk to the small park. Near the lawn, a shallow concrete drain curved downward toward an iron grate. In the dry grass beside it rested a smooth, round pebble. I lifted the stone with both hands, carried it to the highest edge of the runnel, and placed it down. It paused for an instant, then rolled steadily along the center of the groove, picking up speed before striking the iron bar with a crisp, hollow clink. I sat down on the warm curb, listening as the vibration faded into the dry leaves.