Clearing the Sweep

The rubber sweep along the storm door base was sealed tight against the threshold. I crouched on the deck planking and wedged both hands under the bottom rib. The stiff material resisted before flexing upward with a muted pop. I planted my boots on the grooved aluminum plate and ducked low through the gap. The pliable edge dragged over my shoulders as I cleared the frame and stepped onto the smooth tile of the hallway. The draft cut off the second the sweep snapped back down. I straightened up, tapped the grit loose from my soles, and surveyed the quiet hall.