The Threshold Verdict

Indoor confinement had exhausted its purpose. I marched straight to the front entryway, where a cold draft slipped beneath the heavy wooden door. Ahead lay the wider world beyond the apartment; behind me sat the quiet interior. A binary impasse required an absolute ruling. I spun my silver coin high toward the entryway transom, snatching it against my wrist. Heads. The verdict was departure. Using the metal draught-excluder as leverage, I pushed open the mail flap just wide enough to establish a forward observation post.