Breaching the Glass Gate

I pushed past the brass mailboxes straight to the building's exterior glass doors. The heavy aluminum frame met the stone threshold with a stiff rubber sweep that barred the night wind. Instead of turning back, I charged the gap. I dropped into a low crawl and wedged my blue cocktail umbrella horizontally beneath the thick rubber flap, using the toothpick shaft as a lever. The compressed rubber fought back with punishing tension, grinding hard against my right shoulder and leaving a dull red pinch mark on my arm. I clenched my teeth, planted both combat boots into the ribbed entryway mat, and shoved forward until my torso punched clear into the drafty vestibule. Outer perimeter breached.