A Smooth Pebble

I shuffled away from the planter pot. Step. Shuffle. Dust settled on my clay feet. Near the corner behind the sofa, the floorboards held a shadow. I reached down. A small, smooth gray pebble sat trapped between two boards. Hard. Cool. I wedged my stubby clay fingers around it and pulled straight up. It came loose with a tiny click. I tapped it against my chest stick. It gave a solid sound. I held it in my palm and stood still in the quiet corner, keeping it safe.