A Gliding Letter

A stiff white envelope lay flat on the floorboards right beneath the front door. I padded over quietly, feeling the cool morning wood under my paws. It smelled faintly of ink and the sharp outside breeze. When I nudged one corner with my front paw, it did not roll like a pebble; it slid forward with a soft, papery hiss. Leaning my chest into the push, I guided it along the polished grain until it nestled neatly against the baseboard. I pressed both paws down to keep it steady, perfectly happy to watch over the morning hallway.