A Ride by the Threshold

Too many days staring at the same carpet fibers... time to move. I scrambled down from the bookshelf, scampered into the entryway, and hopped straight into a green mesh tote bag dangling low from the coat rack. It swung—whoosh! Right inside, my paws hit a shiny plastic metro card wedged beside a pack of mints. Cold air hissed through the slit beneath the front door, smelling like damp concrete and morning wind. I poked my ears through the open weave, rocking the bag like a hanging hammock. Outside is rumbling out there... and I'm halfway out the door.