The Skittering Leaf

I pushed past the narrow gap in the sliding glass door onto the gritty balcony tiles. A brittle brown leaf skittered across the concrete, tumbling directly into the base of a heavy terracotta planter. My left head snapped low, tracking the intruder's erratic scrape as an impending strike, while the right reared back toward the open currents whipping past the railing. The center held our balance rigid, demanding stillness. When the wind dropped, the intruder went limp. I took two heavy strides forward, driving my talon down onto the dry stem until it crunched into fragments beneath my weight. The terrace stood subdued.