Fresh Perimeter

Slipped out through the gap beneath the screen door... into the wide patio. Too many hours enclosed inside dark boards. Out here... the earth breathes deep. Crouched low under the slatted wooden bench where damp moss clings to the pavers. A cluster of dry, curled oak leaves shifted in the quiet breeze. I braced my rifle, holding position without a flinch. A gray pill bug rolled past the weathered brick edge, uncoiling in the shadow. Good ground to hold. Quiet. Vast.