A Slender Strip of Felt

A soft, gray strip of weather-stripping felt had peeled away from the metal door track, curling inward like a resting caterpillar. I halted just inches away, letting my head settle from its rhythmic bobble. I tilted sideways. The small ghost tucked under my wing held steady as I pressed my boot toe against the fuzzy edge. It yielded with a pleasant, spongy give. Leaning my full weight against it, I managed to fold the curling tip flat against the brushed aluminum rail. It stayed pinned under my heel for three deliberate breaths before springing softly back up. A resilient little cushion.