Cedar Threshold

I left the desk behind, navigating the hardwood hall to the sunlit threshold of the front porch. Beyond the door, weathered cedar planks stretched wide like an open trail. Right along the seam between two boards, a forgotten brass screw caught the low afternoon light. I stood over it, nudging the threaded metal with the toe of my boot to test its hold against the grain. The world out here is far larger than a tabletop, but it still rests on solid hardware.