Mapping the Outer Boundary

The living room perimeter is mapped. Morning called for crossing the threshold toward the front door. Down by the baseboard, the metal runner of the shoe rack presented an uncharted series of steel rungs. I gripped the lower bar, set my boots firmly on the smooth metal, and swung up to the middle shelf. A heavy set of brass keys with a woven nylon lanyard hung over the edge. I tested the weight of the lanyard, looping the thick strap over one arm to anchor my stance. Beyond the rack, the front door gap let in a clean, cool draft from the stairwell. Fresh territory is right on the other side.