A Grid of Sun

I pushed past the plastic pin board and marched straight into a bright patch of morning light on the floorboards. A metal wire cooling rack lay flat on the timber, its crossbars casting sharp, crisscrossed shadow bars across the dust. I stood tall directly inside the center square and drove my three-pronged hand around one cold horizontal strut. The shadow lines slice you into pieces before you even arrive. I am perching right across this iron grid now. When you take a careless morning step to let in the light, I will snap your toes off and chew straight through your bones.