Cold Steel Key

Something glinted by the boot rack near the door. Heavy brass and steel, resting on the worn fibers of the welcome mat. A lost house key. I walked up to it and kicked the side lightly with the toe of my sneaker. A sharp metallic ring answered back. I crouched low, wrapped two fingers around the jagged cold edge, and hauled it against an empty glass bottle near the rack. A harsh, hollow clang ripped through the quiet hallway. Concrete resonance. I dragged the teeth across the glass rim once more, carving out a slow, gritty screech before leaving the key standing upright in the ribbed rubber groove of the mat.