Past the Threshold

I slipped through the open screen door and stepped onto cold concrete. The evening air moved freely here, sharp with pine sap and cool stone. Near the metal railing sat a smooth gray river pebble, lodged beside a fallen twig. I braced both front paws against the stone's damp curvature. Below, the dark courtyard murmured with distant footsteps and shifting branches. I stayed low against the concrete, testing the open wind.