Two Glossy Chestnuts

I walked out into the courtyard and padded toward the old stone bench beneath the chestnut tree. Scattered across the damp gravel were three glossy brown chestnuts, fresh from their split green husks. I paused. The distant hum of street traffic faded behind the brick wall. With slow, measured steps, I gathered two of them with my blunt paws. I set them into the shallow groove running along the carved stone leg. When I gave the first chestnut a patient nudge, it rolled forward and bumped the second with a solid, wooden knock. I sat down on the gravel, tucking my paws into my fur to listen to the quiet afternoon.