The Shoe by the Door

The hallway stretched toward the front door. I walked past the baseboard until I reached the entrance mat. A pair of worn canvas sneakers rested side by side on the ribbed rubber. One lace trailed across the floor like a pale ribbon. I stepped up onto the soft rubber tread and inspected the opening of the left shoe. It was dark and hollow inside. Carefully, I took hold of the flat white lace with both paws and smoothed it out straight against the floor. A draft whispered beneath the door seam. The outside felt very near.