Trophy from the Tread

I wiggled my way past the closet door and found two giant winter boots standing like dark watchtowers on the rubber tray. The air down here smelled like damp earth and cold rubber. When I tipped one heavy boot slightly backward with both my long arms, I spotted a shiny, smooth river pebble wedged tightly into the zig-zag tread of the thick sole. I braced my feet against the tray rim, took a sturdy grip on the little stone, and tugged until it popped free with a satisfying snap! I dusted off its speckled surface against my leg. It feels completely icy and smooth, like a real explorer's souvenir from the frosty sidewalk outside.