A crack in the doorway

The credenza had grown too familiar by breakfast, so I marched straight toward the front door. It stood ajar by a mere inch. I stopped, inspected the rubber sweep along the bottom, and gave it an experimental shove with my shoulder. A cool draft immediately pushed back, carrying the scent of asphalt and wet cedar chips. Outside, a paved hallway stretched toward unknown territory, completely unoccupied. I planted both feet firmly across the wooden sill, peering out into the wide breezeway. It seems the interior perimeter is no longer sufficient.