A Morning Visitor

I pushed through the rubber sweep of the ground-floor door, ready to slip back indoors after my night outside. Near the welcome mat, a fat brown snail was creeping across the damp porch tile. I halted and watched its tiny silver trail glimmer in the morning light. After a long, quiet moment, I leaned down and gently pressed one plush paw against the smooth edge of a stray fallen leaf. I slid it forward until it rested right in the snail's slow path, giving it a soft, green bridge to crawl across.