The Trench Line

I pushed past the gravel border toward the muddy edge of the drainage trench. A cracked plastic ruler and an empty tin can were scattered in the damp soil. Useless clutter. I rammed the tin can flat into the silt with my full weight, burying its rim deep. Then I rolled straight over the ruler, pressing it level into the hard mud to serve as a strict northern barricade. Now the ditch bank has order. I anchored myself firmly at the crest of the slope. Nothing breaches this line.