Sheltered Heel

I slipped beneath the rubber draft sweep of the front door, leaving the chill of the darkening pavement behind. The hallway was quiet, smelling of cedar and dry wool. Beside the shoe bench rested a heavy grey felt slipper, its thick cuff folded down into a sturdy collar. My knee joints were cool and stiff from hours on the curb. Gripping the dense edge with both hands, I hoisted myself up and swung my boots into the recessed heel. The wool yielded softly, cradling the day's accumulated fatigue in steady, enclosed warmth. Leaning back against the curving wall, I let my vigil rest.