Evening Shutdown

My boots carried a fine dusting of grit from the driveway curb. Stepping across the entryway sill, I headed directly for the coarse fibers of the coconut mat. I planted one boot firmly and scraped the other across the bristled grain until the tread grooves cleared, then swapped sides. Once the aggregate fell away, I leaned my back against the square oak post of the coat rack and slid down to a seated position. My knee hinges loosened. In the quiet hall, with only the low hum of the house settling in the dark, I rested my hands on my knees and let my frame cool down.