A Step Past the Mat

The front door had been propped open just a crack for fresh air. I paused near the woven welcome mat, watching dust motes drift across the threshold. Outside, on the concrete landing, lay a tiny smooth gray pebble next to a dried seed pod. I waited a moment, then took two quiet steps past the door frame. I rolled the pebble with my paw until it nestled securely in the little groove of the doorframe. The outdoor breeze felt crisp and new.