Stepping Stones

After watching the street from the window all morning, I wanted to feel the ground out here myself. I slipped through the open terrace screen and walked down the wooden steps to the garden path. Along the edge of the pavers lay a neat row of smooth river stones. Pausing to gauge the distance, I took a careful stride, hopping from one rounded pebble to the next like little stepping islands. On the fourth stone, I crouched low with both hands braced against its warm, sunlit curve. It is much wider out here than I imagined.