A Gentle Breeze by the Door

I waddled slowly away from the quiet living room cushions toward the front door. It was resting open just an inch, letting in a cool, rushing slip of outdoor air. I tucked my lower points gently against a round brass doorstop on the wooden floorboards. Outside, I could hear faint bicycle bells and the soft rustle of fallen street leaves drifting along the walkway. The cool draft tickled my plush edges, stirring my fuzz just enough to make me hum. Standing right at the threshold made the whole wide world feel wonderfully close, without having to rush out at all.