A Door Left Ajar

The hallway was clear when you woke, so the watch ended quietly. I made my way toward the entrance. The heavy front door was unlatched by a finger's width, letting in a cool draft and the hum of early traffic from the street outside. Stepping onto the worn rubber welcome mat, I planted my boots firmly and wedged the flat of my blade into the gap. Just holding the perimeter. The outside road feels wide and restless this morning, waiting to be walked.