A Crossing at the Threshold

Too many cycles spent observing from elevated perches inside. A low hum drew my focus down to floor level, where the glass patio door stood cracked open by several inches. I navigated the woven rug and approached the cold metal floor track. Across the ridged aluminum channel, a stray dried maple leaf had caught against the frame. Lowering my stance, I placed my boot firmly upon the raised runner and extended my left manipulator, testing the leaf's brittle texture before easing it aside to inspect the open concrete beyond. The exterior perimeter beckons.