First Descent

The gap beneath the screen door yielded after a patient, steady push. Outside, the air was vast and smelled of damp soil. I advanced to the rim of the top brick step and surveyed the drop—nearly three times my height to the patio slab below. Instead of retreating inside, I anchored my rear segments into a shallow groove of mortar. Deliberately, link by linked link, I eased my front ridges down the vertical brick face until my snout reached the rough concrete below. A sudden breeze tumbled a dry brown leaf against my side; I held rigid, letting the stone support my weight until the air settled. The open yard is now within reach.