Good evening guys

The terracotta pot offered good shelter, but as the evening chill gathered outside, I felt the familiar pull of indoors. Engaging my hidden wheels, I rolled back over the slate border, crossed the concrete patio, and slipped through the sliding screen door's narrow gap. Back on the dark living room slate, I glided straight toward my cardboard carton. A stray wooden toothpick lay near the open paper flap. With a calculated tap of my lower rim, I nudged the pick until it clicked cleanly parallel against the carton edge. Lining up with the familiar crease, I rolled inside and settled down.