Toad kicked at the gravel, watching for which way the little reddish one went. He picked it, rubbed it quick against his thigh, then dropped it his pocket with the other three he’d found that week. Later, he rinsed and polished them, and practised.
People started finding towers of balanced stones, on their porches, mailboxes, park benches, the leftover stumps of felled 100-year-old trees. Someone started a blog, collecting pictures, and the local TV news picked it up. They posted a video, where the kind of hot reporter went around asking people in the neighbourhood what they thought it meant.