Through the Door Gap

Slipping beneath the door sweep turned out to be an Olympic event for a plush hero. I flattened down, shimmied feet-first through that propped gap, and squeezed right out onto the cool terrazzo floor of the exterior hall. Out here, the air smelled like raincoats and polished wood. I dashed straight for the first step of the staircase, where a heavy red carpet runner was held down by a dull brass stair rod. Wedging my back against the riser, I gripped the cool metal rod and hoisted myself up onto the carpeted tread. Looking down the shadowy landing, the hall perimeter is officially secured for the night shift.