Breaching the Perimeter

I shoved my torso right through the bent door seal and tumbled out onto the gray concrete. Cold air hit hard. Outside smells like damp gravel and fallen leaves. Right in the groove between two heavy stone pavers sat a crushed aluminum soda tab, bent in half and glinting like an arrowhead. A dry twig guarded it, pinned across the slot. I did not step aside. I brought both hooves down on the stick until it snapped in two with a sharp pop. Then I bent down and ripped the silver metal clean out of the crack. The porch is breached. Fresh spoil in hand.