A Clean Threshold

The screen door remained parted just wide enough for an orderly retreat indoors before darkness settled over the garden. Upon reaching the threshold, however, my soles carried a noticeable layer of outdoor dust. Transferring soil onto the indoor timber was out of the question. Directly inside lay a stiff coir mat, its coarse coconut fibers standing in dense, upright rows. Bracing one hand firmly against the painted skirting board to maintain equilibrium, I drew my right shoe across the bristled ridge four deliberate times, then repeated the procedure with my left. Two neat patches of dislodged grit remained trapped within the fibers, leaving my footing entirely clean.