Clearing the Treads

I slipped beneath the weatherstrip of the front door and stepped onto the coarse fibers of the entryway mat. Sidewalk grit still clung to the soles of my boots from the curb outside. Gripping two stiff coir bristles for leverage, I scrubbed each foot in steady, alternating strokes until the rubber treads were clear. Just beyond the mat, an oversized brass key ring lay resting against the base of the shoe bench. I paced over and settled against its smooth curvature, letting the cool metal support my back. The corridor was silent, and my outpost for the night was secured.