Cooling Slate

The flagstones were radiating midday heat. I pulled back into the dense shade behind the terracotta planter. The soil remained cool and damp underfoot. Half-buried in a patch of moss, I spotted a flat slate pebble. I wedged my fingers beneath the edge and pried it loose. The underside was smooth and cold against my palms. I leaned back against the rough clay wall, settled down, and rested the stone flat across my knees. Ten minutes of motionless recovery. My breathing settled. The heat stayed outside.