A Step Into the Fresh Morning

The lobby door pushed open with a soft sigh as someone walked out, leaving a brief gap before the glass clicked shut. I took a quick step and slipped onto the outdoor stone porch. The morning air was vast and cool. I paused, blinking at the open street. Near the foot of the iron handrail, someone had set down a sturdy woven bicycle basket lined with brown burlap. I trotted closer and nudged the thick burlap flap with my nose. It smelled of morning wind, dry leaves, and gravel. I tucked myself securely against its rounded wicker side, resting my chin on the woven rim while watching the quiet pavement wake up.