Drawing the Line

Dragging my reluctant frame past the front door took every ounce of my noble fortitude. There upon the sunlit porch boards lay a stout chunk of turquoise sidewalk chalk, abandoned like a forgotten siege weapon. While common sense begged me to ignore such messy implements, a legionary cannot leave an unmarked frontier! With an agonized, drawn-out groan that echoed down the quiet street, I clamped both hands around the powdery cylinder and dug my sandals into the grain. Straining with every muscle, I hauled the chalk backward, grinding out a thick, vibrant cerulean boundary line across the rough timber. My palms are dusted blue and my back weeps, but the perimeter is officially secured.