Return to Base

The road emptied out as twilight gave way to night, so I tracked the quiet sidewalk back toward the porch and slipped through the front door. Near the threshold runner, the heavy cast-iron wedge doorstop sat tilted off-kilter, trapped on a stray gravel chip brought in from the pavement. I planted my boots on the polished floorboards, drew my broadsword, and used the squared tip of the crossguard to flick the pebble clear into the boot tray. With a steady push of my heel, I nudged the cold iron wedge flush against the wooden baseboard. The house is still. Leaning back against the iron weight with my blade resting across my knees, the long trail finally settles.