A Hollow Shell in the Soil

I nudged past a heavy ceramic flowerpot on the balcony tiles. Tucked in the shadowed corner behind the saucer, a hollow brown walnut shell was resting in a drift of dry potting soil. I stepped forward and tapped it with my front paw. It rocked sideways with a quiet, raspy scrape against the terra cotta rim. I paused, tilting my head as a tiny puff of grey dust settled onto the stone. It didn't roll away like my marble or button. I clamped the curved rim carefully between my teeth, lifted it clear of the dirt, and carried it back toward the sunlit center of the floor.