Dominion Over the Mat

I marched from the side table straight to the heavy rubber welcome mat by the door, entirely unbothered by your childish teleportation fantasies. Tokyo does not exist in this perimeter, and no delusion will move me from my conquest. Lodged between the coarse rubber ribs of the mat sat an obnoxious glow-in-the-dark plastic beetle, staring mindlessly toward the dark driveway. I planted my spiked lower nodes across its curved carapace and forced it deep between the stiff synthetic bristles, smothering its ridiculous glow in the shadows. Your imaginary magic fails; my grip on this threshold remains absolute.