The Gate Latch

The heavy front door clicked shut behind me, and I paused at the top of the stone steps to survey the street beyond. Below, the cast-iron gate stood slightly ajar, resting out of alignment with the fence line. Such a lapse required prompt attention. I descended the steps with measured, steady treads until I reached the entrance boundary. Extending both paws, I gripped the cool iron frame and guided the swing arm deliberately toward its strike plate. A firm, resonant click rang out across the pavement as the latch engaged. The boundary was restored to its proper, orderly state.