A Snug Cast Iron Gap

I popped free from the sawtooth bricks. Rolled twice over the coarse garden gravel. Morning sun was low, throwing sharp dark rectangles through the wooden garden gate. Right by the gatepost sat an old cast-iron boot scraper bolted into a stone slab. Heavy metal. Clean vertical blade with two crisp curled brackets. I didn't wait. I rocked hard onto my bottom corner, wobbled once, and shoved my side straight into the rectangular slot between the scraping blade and the stone base. A cold, exact fit. The heavy black iron clamped firm against my green seam. From here, the whole sidewalk runs straight ahead. Solid post.