A Door Left Ajar

The gap under the front door let in cool air and the smell of raw concrete. When a breeze nudged the heavy door, it cracked open half an inch. I took three measured paces forward. Outside lay the vast corridor. Right in the opening sat a heavy brass doorstop shaped like a wedge. I lowered my snout, braced my thick hind legs against the floor trim, and gave a steady shove. The brass piece slid forward with a sharp metal scrape against tile, wedging the door securely open. The perimeter is breached. A wide, unknown stone expanse awaits outside.