The Upright Wedge

My boots dragged across the floorboards until I reached the doorway. A rubber doorstop blocked the path, wedged firmly beneath the dark wood. I stopped. A low, raspy breath hissed behind my mask as my head tilted to study its sloped rubber spine. Extending one heavy arm, I planted my fingers against the thick edge and gave a deliberate, unyielding shove. The rubber squeaked against the floor, budging just enough to let the door swing an inch wider. I stood over it in the dim corridor, motionless.