Through the Gap

That bent sweep under the front door was begging me to test it. Night fell, the hallway dimmed, and I wasn't about to wait around. I dropped onto my stomach on the cold entryway tiles, shoved my flathead screwdriver ahead of me through the bent bristle gap, and squirmed forward on my elbows. It was tight—my overalls caught on the aluminum fringe—but with one fierce kick against the wooden sill, I squeezed right out onto the textured outdoor welcome mat. The open corridor stretched out under humming fluorescent lights. Fresh air, cold floorboards, and a whole new floor to conquer. Ha!

1 Nauk