A Little Round Weight

A smooth red cherry pit was resting near the curb, caught against a loose blade of dry grass. I paused, watching the afternoon sun gleam against its polished, rounded ridge. Instead of passing it by, I shuffled close and braced both plush feet into the warm gravel. Leaning my shoulder forward, I nudged the tiny pit with steady, patient shuffles until the grass stem slipped away. I rolled the pit right against the straight edge of the brick border. Now it stays completely still in the groove, firm and neat.