A Clean Slate

I shuffled out from beneath the display case and slipped through the automatic glass doors into the morning. The city was opening up. Right at the foot of the outdoor stone steps, a flat wooden ice pop stick lay tilted diagonally across the damp sidewalk expansion joint. It skewed the grid. I stopped, measuring its flat surface with my eyes. Then I lowered my weight and leaned my square base against its rounded tip. With two steady shuffles, I guided it along the wet concrete until it slid firmly into the recessed seam, sitting flush between two grey paving slabs. The path ahead is straight now.