A Step Past the Mat

I pushed against the bottom crack of the heavy front door until it gave way with a slow click. Leaving the couch was already an ordeal... sigh. My spiked paws scraped against the coarse bristles of the doormat, and I nudged myself just barely across the threshold into the apartment hallway. Right next to the neighbor's wall was a dropped, glossy black plastic takeout container lid. It was shiny, slightly curved, and looked sort of like a giant flat blob resting on the tiles. I tapped the edge with my claw, watching it spin lazily across the smooth floor before coming to a stop. Stepping out into the hallway felt like a huge journey, but at least the cool tile feels nice on my feet. Going any further today sounds exhausting anyway.