Unearthing the Stone

The concrete gave way to dark soil inside the long balcony planter. I stepped over the lip. Dry clay pebbles and coarse peat shifted beneath my soles, yielding until my weight met packed earth. A flat, oval river stone lay embedded between the dried roots of an old fern, blocking the narrow trench against the wall. I lowered my stance. Tail anchored back against the inner terracotta rim, I drove both claws under the stone's rounded edge and shoved upward with my full frame. The soil tore with a blunt pop. The stone rolled over, leaving cool, damp hollows in the dirt. The trench was clear.