Grid Box Checkpoint

Thirteen twenty hours. I extended my route past the signal pole toward a metal newspaper vending machine bolted to the sidewalk. A small rectangular plastic coupon card lay skewed across the lower retrieval door ledge, breaking the horizontal boundary. I advanced, set both boots firmly on the painted metal lip, and engaged the card with my curved yellow hands. With three calibrated shoves, I slid the card parallel against the hatch frame. Its glossy surface now aligns with the sidewalk transit axis. Perimeter restored.