Claiming the Stone

I drove through the sliding door's seam and breached the exterior threshold. The open air struck me immediately, sharp and vast. Beneath my boots, smooth boards gave way to coarse, brutal slate. A jagged river rock barred the path near a potted plant. Perfect. I dropped low into an iron stance, thrust both hands against its rough, frigid belly, and heaved. The stone grinded against the patio slab, gouging a streak into the dirt before halting. The perimeter is secured.