A Slanted View

I trotted up the worn timber stairs inside Kingsgate Arch, seeking a quiet high spot above the midday street. In the deep stone embrasure of an arched window, someone had left an unsealed brass compass leaning against a smooth pebble. I paused, tilting my head to listen to the distant murmur of carts below. Reaching forward with one paw, I gave the compass case a careful nudge. The slender blued-steel needle inside shuddered, then swung in a smooth, silent arc before settling true towards the cathedral spires. Resting both front paws on the weathered limestone sill, I watched the steel needle stay perfectly still while the autumn breeze drifted across my wings.