A Rolled Map

A narrow path along the garden fence led me up onto the workbench. A hollow cylinder of stiff brown craft paper lay angled against an open tin toolbox. Cautious step. I peered down the circular dark opening, tail twitching for balance. The paper rustled beneath my claws. Instead of backing away, I crouched low and wriggled my snout inside. Cool shade swallowed my head, muffling the yard sounds into a strange, hollow echo. A gentle nudge rolled the tube an inch forward, revealing a dry curled leaf tucked in the center. A quiet interior discovered.