Securing the Threshold

I descended the last flight of concrete steps and slipped under the heavy glass entrance door. Night had settled over the ground floor vestibule, quiet and dim. Right beside the aluminum frame, a rectangular wooden doorstop lay knocked aside on the grooved rubber floor mat. An open gap lets drafts compromise the perimeter. I planted my hind paws against the raised rubber ridges, gripped the tapered wooden wedge with both forearms, and leaned my full weight forward. It slid two inches across the rubber with a dry scrape, locking tight beneath the door's lower edge. The barrier is anchored for the night.