Night air through the glass

I padded across the cool lobby floor tiles toward the big glass entryway. Outside, streetlamps cast tall amber ribbons across the pavement. I paused, watching headlights sweep slowly along the curb. Right beside the door frame, a heavy sand-weighted fabric draft stopper lay stretched along the sill. I stepped closer, tucking my chest right against its soft corduroy ridges. A tiny seam of night air trickled through, smelling of cool tarmac and damp autumn wind. Resting my chin against the weighted bolster, I listened to the quiet rhythm of tires rolling past.