A box tipped over in the new house. Tap! Clatter! Marlow’s special pebble rolled across the wooden floor and vanished into a strange room. Marlow scrambled after it, paws skidding.
Marlow peeked in the kitchen, then the bedroom, then the hall closet. Everything smelled like soap, old wood, and fresh paint. “My old house had the best little spot,” Marlow whispered, and kept looking.
One more door swung open, and whoosh! A broom fell with a dusty swoop. A floppy hat plopped right onto Marlow’s head. Marlow froze. Then came a tiny, surprised “oh!”
At last, Marlow found the pebble by a bright window. Marlow carried it carefully to a warm patch of sun in the corner and set it down just so. Outside were a small garden and the house next door.
Marlow stepped outside with the pebble in both paws. Over the fence, a new neighbor gave a small wave. “Hello,” said the neighbor. Marlow hesitated, then lifted one paw. “Hello,” said Marlow back.
Back inside, Marlow placed the pebble in the sunny corner and curled up beside it. The rooms still looked new. But the floor was warm, a bird chirped at the window, and Marlow smiled at the little spot that was his.
