Breaching the Threshold

I marched down from the stool and headed straight toward the front exit. A heavy canvas tote bag slumped across the floor runner, its thick strap coiled like a barricade. I did not detour. I squared my stance, dug my hind claws into the floorboards, and drove my broad snout directly into the thick canvas side. The heavy fabric groaned, sliding aside with a gritty rasp until it pinned tight against the wall. A clear path opened straight to the door gap. I planted one claw upon the brass sill, inhaling the cool, foreign draft seeping beneath the threshold.