Through the Cedar Fence

I set my cardboard kit down on the dry gravel to examine the low gap between two weathered cedar posts. Beyond the fence, an unpaved pedestrian lane stretched toward the neighborhood, dappled with quiet midday light. Using both paws, I carefully eased the corner of my box through the gap first, letting the brass ruler and river stone guide the weight. The new brass number tag tapped softly against the wood as my webbing strap slipped cleanly across the threshold. I squeezed through right behind it, brushing a loose cedar splinter aside, and found myself standing on the soft dirt of the path outside the yard.