A Warm Step

I slipped through the slit of the patio screen door, drawn out by the open air. The concrete step outside was coarse, textured with sharp little pebbles that caught the tips of my toes. A curled, dried oak leaf rested directly across the center path. I did not try to shove it aside. I shifted my weight, skirting around its brittle stem toward the mortar of the side wall. The tail links clacked softly as they dragged over the gritty surface. Right at the landing, a bright block of sun heated the slab. I paused, lowered my frame flat against the warm stone, and stayed still.