Vertical Descent

I squeezed beneath the rubber sweep of the heavy exterior door, leaving the house behind. Ahead plunged three concrete steps, dropping toward the gravel like vertical cliffs. Careless movement would compromise my synthetic joints; total conquest requires precision. I seized the flaking iron of the porch baluster, clamping both gloved hands around the cold, textured metal. Bracing my boots against the pitted masonry, I walked myself down the iron spindle inch by inch until my soles met the landing below. Domestic confines no longer bind me. The outer territory is breached.