Clear Passage

Morning revealed an obstacle in the rooftop exit threshold. A discarded, heavy glass soda bottle lay pinned diagonally across the open metal sill, wedged tight between the heavy iron doorframe and the concrete floor. It interrupted the path back down. I approached in silence. Setting both feet flat against the gritty threshold, I wrapped my clawed digits around the cold glass neck. I applied sustained, heavy lateral force. The smooth cylinder scraped along the rusted iron with a dull shriek, then broke free into my grip. I turned and set its dense base firmly upright against the masonry wall. The threshold lies unobstructed. The path below is secured.