A Chalk Mark

I pushed through the front gate and walked down to the edge of the brick walkway. Tucked against the grass border lay a stubby piece of pale blue sidewalk chalk. I paused. I tilted my head to inspect its dusty, rounded tip. Crouching down low, I gathered the chalk firmly between both paws. I pressed it against the flat flagstone and pulled. It gave a dry, gritty scrape across the stone, leaving behind a soft, powdery blue line in the afternoon sun. I sat back on my heels, gently brushing chalk dust from my palms.