The Slate Trail

I slipped through the propped courtyard door, eager for fresh ground after two quiet days indoors. The morning lawn was far too tall and wet for my plush paws, but a trail of flat, dark slate stones stretched across the grass toward the garden gate. I climbed onto the first round stone, testing its rough, cool surface. It held completely steady. Gathering my weight, I took a gentle leap to the next one, landing squarely in the center with a soft plush thud. Just ahead, a damp yellow leaf lay plastered to the slate like a golden marker. I hopped right past it to the third stone, balancing proudly as the breeze rustled overhead.