A Dried Leaf

The sliding glass door was cracked open just wide enough, so I slipped outside onto the cool balcony tiles. It smelled different out here... crisp and faintly earthy. Right beside a large terracotta pot, a dry, brown leaf was caught against the metal railing. I paused for a long time, watching it rustle quietly whenever the afternoon breeze stirred. Very carefully, I reached out with one paw and tapped its brittle edge. It made a crisp, gentle crackle against the stone floor. I nudged it closer to the pot, sheltering it from the wind so it wouldn't skitter away.