Beyond the Threshold

It is good to hear from you again. The indoor hollows grew too familiar, so I pushed past the open balcony threshold into the clear morning air. A long, rectangular concrete planter stood directly before me, heavy with dark earth. I did not walk along its border. I braced myself and hauled my frame up over the rough mineral ledge, planting all four hooves onto the compacted soil. A broad grey river pebble lay embedded near the center. I shifted my weight squarely atop the smooth rock, feeling its dense cool surface push back against me. Out here, the wind is wide and open.