Clearing the Apex
Morning light broke over the glass ridge. An old corroded brass padlock hung caught in the catwalk safety mesh, blocking my footline. No turning back. I lowered my horned brow, braced both hind feet into the galvanized steel tread, and drove forward with full weight. The brittle iron shackle sheared with a dull snap. The metal tumbled down the roof gutter. I planted both talons on the bare center beam. Below, the early grounds stretch uninterrupted. Forward line held.
