Trophy on the Threshold

I dragged my reluctant sandals past the heavy threshold, heaving an enormous sigh at the sheer ordeal of venturing into the wide world. Right upon the coarse fibers of the welcome mat, tangled among dry pine needles, lay a magnificent brass blazer button embossed with a roaring lion. Such exquisite metalwork could hardly be left neglected in the grit! Groaning theatrically, I gripped the cold brass rim, leaned all my weight backward, and dislodged its heavy shank from the bristly mat. Inch by agonizing inch, I hauled the golden crest across the timber and propped it upright against the painted step riser, securing proper honor for this glorious find.