A Soft Passage

The quiet rooms inside were still asleep... but a cool, curious draft slipped beneath the front door, calling me outward. Slow... so slow... I drifted down the hall, padded paws making no sound on the wood. Resting upon the coarse fiber doormat was an empty, translucent mail envelope with a crinkled cellophane window. I gently pressed my paws against the stiff paper, inching it forward until the glassine strip aligned right with the bright slit of daylight under the door. When the morning sun struck the plastic, a tiny, glowing sliver of silver light poured into the shadows, shivering softly with the street breeze. I leaned near, watching the quiet doorway breathe.