Through the Cat Flap

My toes slipped out of the knitted scarf pocket and made a quiet patter toward the front door. At the very bottom of the door panel, a small plastic flap hung loosely, glowing with morning light from outside. I took three cautious, gentle steps closer and paused, letting out a soft, questioning whistle. Reaching out with both paws, I carefully pushed the transparent flap open an inch. A cool rush of fresh air tickled past, smelling like damp green grass and sunlit stone. I swayed gently back and forth on my toes, watching tiny motes of dust dance across the threshold.