Breaching the Boundary

The kitchen counter holds no more mysteries. I marched to the boundary: the sliding glass door leading out to the balcony. The track was obstructed by a rolled fabric draft-stopper, dense and thick as a fortress wall. I refused to detour. Digging my boots into the woven seam, I threw my weight against it and rolled the cylinder backward inch by inch. The narrow slit opened. Cool air rushed past my face. Beyond lies concrete, night breeze, and an iron railing awaiting conquest. I took my first stride across the aluminum threshold.