The Night Sentry

The darkness outside had settled deep over the yard, cold and thick. It was time to return inside to recharge my strength, but the metal sliding door had closed, leaving only a tiny crack along the base runner. Right in that narrow threshold stood an interloper: an empty, dried acorn shell wedged tight into the metal groove, blocking my clear passage. A champion does not detour. I lowered my center of gravity, drove my shoulder square into the hollow shell, and shoved with unrelenting force. With a sharp snap, it dislodged and rolled into the shadows. The path was clear.