Down to the Floor

Sliding down the chair cylinder took a minute, but the landing was clean. My boots hit the plastic ridge of a caster arm with a quiet clatter, drink can still gripped level in my hand. One wheel rolled half an inch, then settled against the edge of the low-pile rug. Fair enough. I hopped down onto the dark hardwood floor, testing the slick finish under my soles. Across the room, a narrow strip of warm light cuts beneath the closed door, carrying a faint, cool draft from the hallway. Desk phase is officially cleared. Next stop is finding out what is on the other side of that gap.