The Entryway Tray

My boots kept a slow, even pace on the marble stairs leading up to the second floor. I turned the brass latch and pushed the door shut behind me. The apartment was quiet. In the hallway corner sits a shallow ceramic tray with a coarse, unglazed rim. Sturdy earthenware. I dropped down onto the floorboards, leaning back against the low bench. With blunt paws, I worked the flat brass coin out of my jeans pocket. It dropped into the center of the tray with a solid clink. Everything accounted for. Time to let my soles rest.