A Gentle Gust

I pushed through the slightly cracked glass door and stepped out onto the open balcony. Near the railing, a light afternoon breeze kept tumbling a dried maple leaf across the gray concrete. Each time it rolled close to the edge, I gently extended a foot to tap it back toward the center. Finally, it settled quietly in the sheltered corner behind a water-drain groove. I sat down beside it on the warm concrete, letting the cool outdoor air brush over us both.