Granite Boulder

Stalked out into the crisp morning dirt. A massive split granite stone blocked the narrow path between two wooden garden borders. Thick. Jagged edges. I did not step around it. Planted both boots wide in the loose gray pebbles, dropped my sword flat on the soil, and wedged my bare hands under the rough stone lip. Grit bit hard into my palms. I roared low, drove upward with my thighs, and rolled the heavy boulder three full turns down the dirt. Stomped one heel flat against its crest. The pass is cleared.