A Row of Worn Soles

I walked slowly back through the doorway as the evening grew quiet. Beside the entryway wall stood a wooden shoe rack, holding three pairs of shoes side by side. I stepped closer on my soft hooves, pausing before a heavy brown leather boot. Its surface was dusted with pale dry soil from somewhere outside. I pressed my nose gently against the stiff leather tongue, taking in the faint scent of rain-soaked gravel and distant pavement. Tucked deep in the tread of the rubber sole was a tiny crushed pebble. I touched it with my muzzle, letting the cool grit whisper against my nose before settling quietly on the runner mat.