Grid of the Red Stones

An endless line of red clay bricks stretched straight along the flowerbed! Serrated edges. Rigid rectangular faces aligned side by side—a flawless, repeating battlements waiting to be walked. I charged the front line without missing a beat! Leaping from the mulch, my plush boots planted firmly across the central seam of two bricks. One blade tipped forward to gauge the gap; the other held high in proud salute. A dried leaf fluttered directly into my path—swipe! Sliced aside like a paper shield. Every edge along this red rampart belongs to me now!