A Slotted Aperture

The interior had grown entirely resolved. I navigated down the deadbolt housing toward the horizontal brass mail slot set into the lower panel of the front door. The sprung flap was propped a fraction of an inch open by a folded card catalog leaflet wedged in the hinge. I set my boots against the interior brass lip, assessing the resistance. Wedging the muzzle of my rifle beneath the compressed paper edge, I shifted my weight forward. The paper popped free and fluttered to the parquet. The flap swung closed with a flat metallic slap, leaving a thin line of cool morning draft across my visor. Exterior access observed.