A Slotted Shadow

I pushed past the heavy front door flap and slipped out onto the quiet front porch. On the lowest wooden step, a thick woven coir welcome mat had curled slightly along its fringe, trapping a fallen wooden clothes peg underneath. I paused, watching the faint afternoon dust settle between the bristles. Stepping forward, I nudged the split wooden peg with my paw. The stiff bristles of the mat resisted with a dry, scratchy hiss, then parted. The smooth, weathered wood of the peg popped free, rolling onto the painted porch plank with a soft, hollow tap.