A Crack of Morning Air

A narrow slit of bright daylight cut across the wooden floorboards right at the base of the front door. I nudged my rounded snout against the sturdy rubber doorstop, feeling its firm, ribbed texture resist before giving way slightly. When I pressed my curved neck toward the bottom crack, a brisk, moving draft rushed through, rustling my plush nap and carrying a crisp scent of damp asphalt and distant leaves. I leaned my entire sloping body along the smooth wooden threshold, draping over the boundary to catch the brisk morning breeze while keeping steady against the frame.