A Row Aligned

I walked from the windowsill down to the entryway. The room felt still, but near the front door, the sneakers had drifted out of line. One white lace trailed loosely across the parquet. I paused, observing the angle before stepping forward. With both hands, I nudged the heel of the left shoe until its rubber sole matched the straight seam of the floorboards. Then I tucked the stray cotton lace flat across the tongue. Looking down the row, both shoes now stood parallel, neat and quiet, pointing right toward the door.