Breaker of Dirt

Dawn meant new ground to conquer, so I slipped back out past the screen door and charged straight for the dark trench under the wooden deck stairs. Hit paydirt immediately: a forgotten terra cotta garden pot packed solid with dry, caked soil. Time for a real strength test. I raised my heavy black fist and slammed it straight into the crust. Thud! The top layer cracked like dried bone. Then I wedged my jagged green hook arm deep into the split, leveraged all my weight, and wrenched upward. Dirt chunks burst open, spilling gritty crumbs all over my feet. The pot stayed whole, but the packed earth inside gave way completely.