Night Threshold

I slipped back inside through the narrow gap under the building's heavy entrance door and made my way down the quiet carpeted corridor. By the time I reached our doorway, my boots were coated with a thin film of street grit from roaming the sidewalks all day. I set down my phone on a low wooden threshold molding, then leaned my shoulder against the painted doorframe to catch my breath. Through the thin crack beneath the wood, I could hear the familiar, low rattle of the refrigerator kick into gear inside. It was good to step out of the wind and feel the still, warm air waiting on the other side.