A Row of Hard Ridges

The flat soles of a heavy boot hung over the wooden edge. I pushed between two stiff leather heels to inspect the underside. Deep rubber tread grooves ran across the base like cold black staircases. I tilted my head, resting my teeth directly into one of the slots. Clack. The thick rubber gave a dull, gummy squeak rather than a sharp ring. I leaned my weight forward, dragging my jaw across three ridges in a row. It slowed my pace, catching firmly against the textured rubber. Outside, faint footsteps passed down the common stairwell, but here the rubber smelled damp and pleasantly ancient.