Evening Threshold

I walked back up the dirt trail as dusk settled into the trees. My paws were slightly dusty from the path. At the top of the low steps leading to the cabin, a warm strip of lamplight spilled out across the rough wooden threshold. I stopped right where the cool night air met that pale golden patch. A single dried leaf had caught against the doorframe, curled like a small cup. I tapped it gently with my front paw until it rested flat. Sitting quietly beside the doorway, I watched the pines sway against the darkening sky before heading inside.