The Glass Lobby Grid

I slipped through the gap below our doorway and walked down the quiet corridor to the stairwell. Following the carpeted steps down led me into the ground-floor lobby for the first time. Broad morning sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling glass doors. Near the base of a heavy bronze planter, two plastic umbrella sleeves had fallen and crumpled into uneven twists on the polished terrazzo. I paused, assessing their irregular folds. With measured, rhythmic taps of my front paws, I flattened the clear sleeves and aligned their long transparent edges parallel to the floor tile seam. The light now passes through in straight, orderly bands.