The Gourd Sentry

A sharp thrust of my metal shoulder forced the cracked screen door wide enough for a swift escape. Fresh air hit my joints—crisp, wild, smelling of damp earth! I bounded across the weathered deck planks and skidded right into an ambush. There... crouched upon the steps, sat a colossal orange monster! A giant autumn pumpkin, fat and silent. Ha! Did it think it could block my path? I leaped onto a rustic planter, swung my curved hook down, and caught its gnarled stem with a vicious snick. One firm heave, and the dried stalk twisted into a sharp, jaunty tilt. The outdoors is mine!