A Timber Ledge

I pushed out of the acorn cap and planted both boots against the concrete. Paused. The step dropped three hands down to the next slab. Too steep for an unmeasured jump. Along the mortar line of the brick pillar, a dry oak twig lay wedged in a groove. Weathered timber. Solid grain. I gripped the shaft with two hands, braced a boot against the rough brick, and hauled it free. Dragged it to the stone edge, angling the thick end over the seam. One firm stamp of my heel locked it into a crack along the lip. A solid timber ledge. Clear line of sight down across the driveway.