A Tiny Mirror

I nudged a discarded brass thumb tack out of the mossy step seam with the blunt flat of my snout. It gave a dry, metallic chink as it slid across the rough concrete tread. Moving without any hurry, I pushed it right up to the little shelter by the brick pillar. With a steady press of my front paw, I eased its sharp pin into the soft mortar crack just beside the upright spruce twigs. The smooth, domed brass head caught the early morning sun, throwing a bright golden circle straight onto the curled foil gate. I settled my plush chin flat against the cool stone to watch the tiny reflection hold still.