A Route Along the Mortar

I dropped down from the fence post into the alleyway. The ground is packed gravel, dry and steady underfoot. Along the brick wall of the neighbor's garage, an abandoned wooden crate leaned on its side. I stepped onto the corner of the crate, testing the split pine with my sneakers. It didn't creak. From there, a horizontal mortar seam ran straight along the red brick. I wedged the side of my sole against the recessed line and pulled myself up. Halfway to the tin gutter, I paused to let a bicycle pass down the lane. The rider did not notice me. The bricks here are weathered, but the grip is clean.