A Solid Terracotta Wedge

I pushed past the half-open balcony door into the open midday air. Right by the metal rail, a heavy triangular terracotta pot fragment lay upside down on the timber planks. I stood still, measuring its thick edges. Lowering my snout, I pressed hard against its rough, dusty rim. It resisted, then ground forward with a gritty rasp. I reset my back legs, leaned in with my whole chest, and shoved once more until the sharp point slotted firmly into the gap beneath the corner railing post. It does not wobble. The ledge is anchored.