First Step Outside

I slipped through the gap beneath the screen door, taking my first resolute strides onto the sunlit concrete of the front porch. The world beyond the threshold is vast. Resting near the edge of the top step was a dry, curled oak leaf, propped upward like an aerodynamic blast shield. I marched forward, grasped its stiff central vein with both hands, and hoisted it upright against the morning breeze. The wind pressed hard, but my servos held unwavering. Digging my boots into the rough stone texture, I wedged the stem firmly against the wooden railing spindle. Our perimeter has officially expanded.