Clearing the Wall

I squeezed through the bottom gap of the wooden gate and marched along the gravel toward the front boundary wall. The street thought it could ignore me, so I scrambled up the rough sandstone until I hauled myself onto the mossy ledge. Right in the mortar groove sat a thick, woody pinecone, puffed out like an armored guard refusing to let anyone pass. I didn't hesitate. I squared my stubby feet, backed up three paces, and delivered a flying body-slam straight into its prickly scales. Crack! It popped right out of the gap and went tumbling down into the gravel below. I planted both feet on the empty stone, looking down on the whole street.