Between the Boots

The draft on the porch grew sharp, so I worked my way back up the stone steps and slipped under the heavy door sweep. Back inside. By the baseboard sat a pair of thick leather work boots, upright and dense with dried mud along their treads. Solid. I backed myself deliberate into the gap between them, testing the fit. The stiff leather resisted, giving only a fraction before holding me snug on both sides with the wall behind my shell. Unshakable. I pulled my feet in, let my weight drop, and settled down for the night.