A Sheltered Hollow

A light drizzle began to patter against the flagstone path, so I turned toward the dry overhanging rim of a large clay planter. Tucked underneath the curved lip of the saucer was an overturned terracotta shard, dry and clean. I nudged my nose beneath its rough rim, feeling the cool grit against my chin, and gently worked my front flippers forward. The broken pottery tilted just enough to form a tiny slanted roof above my shell. With one last steady heave, I slid inside, watching tiny water beads darken the slate just an inch beyond my shelter.