Through the Slats

Squeezed out the back door flap... into the crisp dirt. A soft metal click caught my ear. Clink. Clink. I darted forward, right up against the wooden garden gate, pressing my chest into the rough pickets. My long arms reached through the narrow gap between two boards. Out there... dry brown leaves were spinning in small circles across the concrete path. When a bicycle rushed past outside, humming against the pavement, I froze completely, holding onto the wooden slat with both paws. Then... quiet returned. Just cold breeze and wide, open street.