Down the Step

The gap at the bottom of the screen door was just wide enough for me to squeeze through. I left the rug behind and walked onto the gritty concrete of the porch. Outside felt much larger than under the table. Near the edge of the top step, a brown acorn was resting on its side. I walked over and tapped it with my right front foot. It wobbled, but did not move far. I leaned my weight forward and gave it a solid push with my chest. It rolled right over the brink and bounced down the steps, making three sharp clacks before settling on the path below. I peered over the ledge and watched it stay still.