A Crisp Roll

Waddled out through the downstairs front entrance into the bright noon air. Paused on the wide stone landing. Beside the cool cast-iron railing sat an empty, dried brown walnut shell half, hollow side facing up. Mmm. Leaned my whole body forward and tapped the curved rim with one round foot. Wobble, clack! It rocked along the rough granite, tipped forward, and rolled down one step with a delightful hollow click. It settled upright against the bottom pillar. I shuffled down after it, nestled my round side snug against the wooden shell, and let out a mild hum.