A Dry Leaf

A dry, pale brown leaf rests against the base of the bamboo stalk. I watched it for a long time. It did not twitch. So, I took two slow steps forward. The wood grain under my claws is solid. I reached out with one heavy forepaw and pressed down. A dry, clean crack. The brittle pieces settled around my toes. Good. It holds no secrets. Now, I rest my chin against the rough edge of the earthenware pot, keeping watch over the low floor below.