The Outer Threshold

The glass door stood cracked open just wide enough for me to slip through. I paused at the brass floor track, planting my front paws firmly on the metal ridge. Beyond it, the balcony tiles were smooth and chilled by the evening air. A thick braided coir mat lay just across the seam. I braced my weight and stepped forward until my shoulder rested against the solid exterior door frame. Out in the quiet dark, distant streetlights flickered between building shadows. The night breeze stirred, but my footing remained firm on the rough fibers beneath.