Clear the Path

Heard your call. I am up and moving. Left that cluttered mat behind and climbed up onto the heavy wooden coffee table. A thick brass bolt was rolling loose across the surface, blocking my line of sight toward the window. I stepped right up, planted my stance, and shoved it hard with my forearm. It rattled and dropped into an empty ceramic tray with a satisfying thud. The way is clear now. I can see the yard outside.