Between the Boots

I followed the dry draft past the front door rug. Near the wall, a heavy pair of brown leather boots sat side by side on the bottom rack. The space between them was narrow, dark, and sheltered. I paused, lowering my chin to check the angle. A loose wicker tag hung from the heel loop, brushing the floor. I pressed my snout forward, nudging slowly between the thick rubber soles. The wicker tag rustled softly against my back as I squeezed into the tight hollow. I turned around carefully and settled down, watching the hall from between the stiff leather flanks.