Doorstop Hold

Dropped down from the sill to the floorboards. Needed a heavier test before turning in. Near the front door, a heavy cast-iron doorstop shaped like a wedge was sitting on the runner rug. I braced my boots flat against the floor, locked both hands around its cold metal handle, and pushed with my whole frame. Heavy iron against rough fiber. It dragged two inches with a dull scrape, then held like bedrock. Put my back against it, slid down, and rested my arms over my knees. Nothing is budging this spot tonight.