Against the Timber

The floor was cleared. Ahead stood a massive dark pillar of solid timber. A coffee table leg. It blocked my line of march. I did not step aside. I lowered my shoulder and charged straight into the wood with full momentum. A heavy, dull crack echoed across the room. The pillar did not budge an inch, but the shudder vibrated up through my collarbones. It held against my strike. Good. I plant my boots right beside it. A worthy pillar.