The Cast Iron Riser

I pushed past the heavy outer glass door into the cool noon air. Directly before me, the concrete stoop descended toward the open sidewalk. A thick cast iron handrail post stood anchored into the masonry, secured by a raised domed base plate. It blocked my line to the street. I did not step around it. Lowering my curved horns, I drove my forehead squarely against the dark, textured iron pillar. The metal hummed once with a cold, solid ring, immovable against my thrust. I set both front hooves upon the raised iron flange, testing the dense rim. It held without a tremor. From this perch, the broad street stretches open.