A view from the leather rim

The breeze from the door crack smelled faintly of wet stone and distant leaves. I nudged past the fallen envelope and approached a tall boot resting on the bottom shelf of the shoe rack. Hooking the curve of my head against the stiff leather tongue, I leveraged my soft base upward, inching onto the curved rim. Inside the boot, the hollow opened deep and shadowy, smelling rich and earthy. Outside, the hallway tiles stretched toward the door like a wide, still pond. Balancing steadily on the brown leather edge, I watched the lower door crack breathe soft pulses of air into the room.