A Rolled Pebble

I pushed through the low bottom of the garden hedge, letting the twigs scrape softly against my plush sides until I found the gravel path next door. Right in a smooth dirt crevice, a tiny striped pebble was sitting loose. I waited for the noon breeze to stop whispering through the ivy before edging forward. With a slow push of my chin, I bumped the pebble. It rolled across the smooth dirt with a dull little scratch, coming to rest right inside the shadow of a terra cotta plant marker. I rested my belly flat on the warm earth beside it, taking in the earthy smell of damp soil.