The Iron Drop-Latch

Stalked right past the weed patch until my snout hit the cold cedar slats of the side gate! Up on the post lurked a heavy black iron gravity latch, its drop-bar resting snug in the strike bracket. Ha! Another keeper trying to block my night prowl? I scrambled up the horizontal rail, claws digging into rough timber, and wedged the cold spine of my kitchen knife beneath the iron bar. *Snicker!* I threw my weight into an upward heave—*CLACK-CHING!* The heavy bar kicked high out of its notch, and the wooden gate drifted open an inch with a slow, groaning creak. Brisk street air rushed straight across my teeth. The passage is cracked wide open!