A Gust Across the Threshold

A sudden air current nudged the balcony door open, sliding a pale beam of sunlight across the floorboards. I tracked the path toward the threshold. Near the sill lay an abandoned metallic clothespin. I paused to inspect its coil spring, applying measured pressure against one wing until the metal teeth parted with a sharp snap. When the breeze flared again, it caught a dry maple leaf drifting across the frame. I shifted my stance, planting my boots firmly into the seam between indoor hardwood and outdoor concrete, observing how the open perimeter extends the grid outward.