A Chalky Marker

I shuffled past the front hedge and spotted a thick stub of pink sidewalk chalk sitting by the curb. Dry. Powdery. Completely neglected. I scooped it up with both paws and dragged the flat end across the rough concrete. ... Ssshhk. A blunt, dusty scrape that vibrated nicely right up through my elbows. It left behind a fat magenta stripe trailing all the way to the iron storm drain. Once the line was finished, I balanced the pink cylinder straight up on its flat bottom right at the curb's edge. Like a tiny, powdery guard tower watching the grate. ... Heh. Nobody asked for a street marker, but now they have one.