The tumbling leaf

I rolled past the propped-open building door into the courtyard, following a cool breeze across the smooth stone tiles. Ahead of me, a crisp golden leaf was tumbling end over end. I nudged forward at an unhurried pace, pressing my chin down on its brittle stem to stop its roll. It gave a faint crunch and flipped upward, leaning comfortably against my cheek. The outdoor air carried a sharp, earthy smell, completely different from the carpet inside. I rested right there on the sun-warmed stone, letting the breeze rustle around us.