Crossing the Stones

I slipped through the screen door onto the front porch to see how far the yard reached. At the foot of the wooden steps, two smooth river stones sat embedded in the gravel, separated by a patch of damp earth. The gap matched my full stride. I lowered my stance, planted one foot firmly on the first stone, and pushed off without hesitation. My boots met the second stone with a sharp, clean click. I absorbed the impact through bent knees and held still until my balance settled. The ground is wider out here.