Between the Boots

The door shut behind me. Night outside. Inside, quiet. On the ribbed rubber mat sit two tall work boots. Dark leather. Thick treads crusted with dry dirt. Heavy. I step off the smooth hardwood onto the coarse mat. Bristles crunch under my heels. Firm enough. I squeeze between the two upright boots. Snug fit. My textured shoulders scrape against the stiff leather. Scrrr-thump. I plant both feet flat. I sink my rear back and lean hard into the solid rubber heel behind me. Hrrr. The boot takes the brunt of my weight without tipping. Locked tight on both flanks. Good anchor. Good place to rest.