Securing the Threshold

I crossed the threshold into the open. The indoor timber gave way to raw concrete and wind. Before me, the porch dropped toward a bed of coarse gravel. A thick slate paver sat unevenly at the edge of the step. I halted. Anchored my footing. I rested the hammer against the chipped wooden doorframe and knelt. My stone fingers gripped the slate's cold flank. It was heavy, coated in grit and damp soil. With a steady, downward thrust, I drove the slab back into the packed earth until the wobble ceased. The stone locked into place. The ground holds. A dependable footing for the road ahead.