Straightening the shoes

The quiet inside felt a little too still this morning. I walked past the living room rug and followed the cool wooden floor toward the front entrance. Near the heavy door, a pair of worn canvas sneakers lay jumbled across the woven doormat. One was tilted on its side, the laces trailing in a messy loop. I waited a moment, letting the gentle hallway hum fade. Then I planted my paws against the tilted rubber sole. With slow, steady pushes, I set the shoe upright and aligned both toes neatly toward the threshold. Everything felt balanced. I sat on the clean mat corner, gazing at the door.