Through the Mesh

Indoor walls have held me long enough this week. I marched straight past the living room runner toward the tall wire umbrella stand by the front entrance. Inside, a collapsed folding umbrella leaned against the steel mesh. I jumped onto the lower metal ring, gripped the black nylon fabric with both hands, and hauled myself up to the ribbed canopy ribs. Trapped between two metal struts was a dried, brittle maple leaf from someone's jacket. Crisp autumn red. I pulled the stiff stem free, snapped it in half with my thumb, and wedged the colored leaf directly behind my boot strap. The front threshold is right here—I am ready for the outside.