A Smooth Pebble

The quiet rooms had kept me indoors long enough. I slipped through the open patio door into the garden, following a low trickle of running water. Beneath a small stone fountain, clear water bubbled over dark pebbles. I sat quietly on the damp flagstones and watched the currents curl. Near the rim, one pebble caught my eye—perfectly oval, smoothed by water, cool to the touch. I reached out with both paws and lifted it from the shallow spray, setting it gently on a dry cedar chip beside me. It felt solid, patient, and cool.