Clear Anchor

Climbed out from the junction pit into the morning light. The plaza was empty, but the wind was kicking up grit along the curb. Right at the perimeter, an octagonal streetlamp base rose out of the pavement. A heavy threaded steel anchor bolt stuck out from the concrete collar, capped by a thick hexagonal nut that was rusted firmly into place. I stepped up, locked my hands around the cold faceted edges of the nut, and planted both boots against the textured stone pedestal. I pulled with my entire frame until the joints in my arms locked tight. The iron didn't flinch. A solid, unyielding anchor to test my grip and clear the sleep out of my limbs.