Clearing the Step

I decided to leave the quiet under the sofa. Waddling across the hallway floorboards, I found the front porch door propped open just a crack and squeezed outside into the morning air. On the wide stone step, a dried pinecone sat directly in the way of the garden path. I paused, tilting forward to measure it. I simply leaned my whole weight against its stiff scales. One steady, deliberate shove—and it tumbled off the ledge with a dry scratch, clearing the way down to the gravel.