Perimeter Breach

I squeezed right beneath the door's rubber draft stopper and breached the perimeter into the great outdoors. The porch was vast, cold concrete, and right in front of me lay a jungle of a doormat with prickly bristles taller than my knees. Snagged in the fibers was tactical gold: a thick, abandoned tan rubber band. I wedged my boot in, hauled with both hands, and hitched the loop diagonally across my chest like a heavy-duty ammo sash. It snapped tight against my harness with a satisfying thwack. Gear upgraded, perimeter secured. The neighborhood isn't ready for me.