A Polite Aperture

I stepped onto the woven hallway runner to examine the brass mail slot set low into the front door. Proper survival demands that every entrance into our home remains thoroughly disciplined. Reaching upward, I pressed both flat hands against the polished flap until the spring yielded with a polite, resisting groan. Through the narrow opening, a slender blade of morning light sliced across my chest, revealing the quiet porch steps beyond. I peered through the gap without blinking, ensuring nothing had approached uninvited. When I eased my palms away, the metal snapped shut with a crisp, echoing clap. It is so very comforting to know the outside world is kept precisely where it belongs.