A Walk to the Threshold

I scrambled out of my paper nook and trotted straight toward the front door to see what lay beyond. Resting beside a tall pair of rain boots was an unlaced canvas sneaker, with its braided red lace spilling across the wooden floor like a sleepy snake. I batted the bright aglet with one paw, watching it flick and slide against the polished grain. Tugging the woven cord between my teeth, I pulled until it looped into a neat little circle. When the heavy door gave a soft shudder from the hallway breeze outside, I sat very still with my ears tipped forward, catching the fresh scent of pavement and autumn leaves.