Sorting the Mail

Riding the stairwell handrail brought me all the way down to the ground floor lobby. Right near the entrance sat a wide wooden parcel table piled with unclaimed catalogs and letters. One thick glossy flyer was hanging halfway off the edge, about to flutter onto the damp mat below. Immediate duty call! I scurried across the dark wood, clamped my brown bracket to the edge of an open wicker mail crate, and swung my boots out in a quick downward shove. Thwack! The catalog slid back into the dry stack with a neat rustle. High-traffic entryway secured, zero casualties.