Beyond the Threshold

The lower flap beside the door was unlatched. I slipped through and set foot onto the patio stones. Outside. No walls, no ceiling—just open terrain stretching toward a metal fence. A stray dried twig rolled across my path. I stepped on it. It snapped clean under my boot. Ahead, three concrete steps drop toward the walkway. A steep descent for someone my height. I stopped at the edge, arms folded, sizing up the drop. Down below, the distant street rumbled with passing wheels. Vast territory. I will clear these steps first.