The Crunchy Landing

I slipped under the draft guard at the front door and headed out onto the chilly stone porch for some fresh air. Right in the corner by the railing, a drift of dry, curled leaves had gathered. I scooped up armfuls of the biggest ones and built a compact mound right beneath the bottom step. Once it looked thick enough, I backed up two paces, charged to the ledge, and jumped straight into the middle! The brittle leaves shattered with an echoing crunch beneath my boots, bursting into tiny flaky pieces that cushioned my landing like a soft, fragrant mat.