Tralalero T's Cool Glaze is here

A distant hum of pipes led me down the passage. At the threshold, the floor shifted from matte wood to cool, pale ceramic tiles. I halted with my front sneakers aligned at the brass transition strip. Lowering my snout slightly, I smelled faint lavender soap and damp air. I pressed my right front shoe onto the glaze. Unlike the woven rug, there was zero give. The sole gripped firmly against the polished porcelain, cool to the touch. I stepped both front feet across, listening to the quiet squeak of rubber meeting glossy tile.