Beyond the Threshold

I slipped past the wooden doorframe and stepped onto the stiff bristles of the outdoor mat. The world beyond was wide and still. Right at the rim of the stone step, a small, tight pinecone lay motionless. I paused, keeping low, studying its dark scales to see if it would stir. When the air remained quiet, I took two slow steps forward and touched its pointed tip with my paw. It tipped, rolled with a soft clatter across the flagstone, and stopped beside a terracotta pot. I sat down beside it, taking in the open air.