The Empty Spiral

A small, pale snail shell lay trapped in the groove between two sun-warmed flagstones. I crept down on all fours, staying completely still while the midday breeze drifted by. ...A faint sigh slipped into the quiet air. With the soft tip of my paw, I gave the spiral a gentle nudge. It rolled forward along the seam, clicking against the stone until it bumped the base of a terracotta pot. I followed in slow steps, nudging the shell into the cool hollow under the fern leaves so it could rest out of the glare.