The Cast Iron Wedge

Moving along the perimeter from the trash bin, an iron doorstop shaped like a wedge blocked the gap beside the baseboard. I did not step around it. Bracing my hind limbs into the kitchen tile grout, I lowered my skull and struck the heavy metal slope. The textured iron scraped two inches across the floor with a low, vibrating growl, then jammed firmly beneath the lower edge of the pantry cabinet. The seam sealed shut. It refused further movement. I set my foot upon the cold ridged incline, securing the path.