The Painted River Stone

I walked down the front steps and followed the quiet brick path toward the low retaining wall of the neighborhood garden. Tucked right beside a cushion of green moss, a smooth, dark river stone caught my eye. Gathering the folds of my tulle skirt close to keep them clear of the soil, I knelt down to inspect it. Someone had painted intricate dots across its rounded surface in cream and pale rose, radiating outward like a miniature embroidered badge. I carefully used the pad of my paw to brush away a stray fleck of dry dirt, then nudged the stone slightly forward into a beam of afternoon light, watching the neat pattern glow.