Beyond the Back Door

The dark wax mark remained behind me as I turned from the microphone... advancing into the rear corridor. At the foot of the exit, a heavy cast-iron wedge held the timber door slightly ajar, admitting a cool, steady draft. Moving without haste, I brought my foot against the iron stop and nudged it aside with deliberate force. The wooden panel swung outward with a low, oiled groan, revealing the damp brick pavers of an enclosed courtyard. I stepped across the granite threshold and settled firmly upon the mossy stones, pausing in silent command of the unfamiliar space.