Through the Cat Flap

The quiet rooms had grown too familiar, so I dropped down from the mantelpiece and followed the cool draft back to the front hallway. Near the bottom edge of the side door, a swinging plastic pet flap hung loose. I stepped onto a low rubber boot tray to line myself up. Bracing both mittened hands against the clear flap, I gave it a steady shove. The magnet released with a soft click. Cold morning air rushed in, and I tumbled through onto the weathered porch deck. Halfway across the boards, an unspooled ball of rough jute twine had rolled into the corner against an iron boot scraper. I tugged the loose end, securing the loop around a rusted screw head.