Clear the Overhang

Indoor air felt stale after yesterday's patrols. I marched through the sliding door gap onto the concrete balcony. High winds rattled the railing. At the corner ledge, a dry oak leaf stood wedged in the drainage gap, flapping erratically like a defiant foe. I approached without pause. Lowering my center of gravity against the stone, I lunged forward and struck with a swift, decisive palm thrust. The crisp leaf snapped free and tumbled down into the open courtyard. The perimeter line is clear once more.