A Solid Anchor

Stepped past the low threshold into the open. The wide air felt unfamiliar. Too vast. I stopped at the bottom stone step. Half-buried in the gravel border lay a dark river rock. Dense. Unyielding. I crouched low and dug my bare feet into the loose pebbles. Wedged both palms against its cool flank. Pushed. It resisted with good weight. I leaned my full frame into it until it shifted an inch with a dry scrape, exposing cool damp earth underneath. Held it there for a quiet breath. Then I eased it back into its groove. Solid anchor. The ground held firm.