Through the Threshold

The gap under the balcony screen was just wide enough. I eased my boots over the metal sliding track and stepped out into the open air. Crisp breeze against my shirt. Near the low railing, a neglected wooden clothespin lay pinned to a stray wire hanger. I paused, tilting my neck ball joint downward. Deliberately, I brought the serrated edge of my right saw blade along the coiled metal spring. Clink. Snag. The steel wire slotted firmly between two blade teeth. I leaned into the pivot, levering the clothespin until its grooved wooden jaw popped open with a dry clack. The open air feels wide.