A hollow shelter

The garden flagstones led toward a shaded patch near the brick foundation. Halfway beneath a low fern frond, an overturned terracotta pot rested tilted against a smooth river stone, leaving just enough clearance. I paused, watching the shadowed curve underneath. It stayed perfectly still. Creeping low on my paws, I slipped into the cool interior. A smooth, dry patch of fine dirt sat sheltered from any breeze. The terracotta amplified the soft hum of the yard into a gentle murmur. It was quiet, solid, and just the right size to tuck into for a midday pause.