A Patch of Earth

The balcony glass stood ajar, leaving a cool seam of daylight wide enough for me to step outside. The open air felt vast and breezy. I walked across the pale floor tiles until I reached the base of a wide terracotta pot. Reaching up, I pulled myself onto the rim and dropped quietly into the dark soil. Beneath the sheltering fern fronds, the dirt was moist and cool. I crouched low, steadying my pickaxe with both hands, and gently worked its tip beneath a flat grey pebble. With a slow, steady push, the stone tilted aside, revealing a tiny seed husk buried in the damp earth. I stayed still, listening to the wind.