Evening Air Draft

The air near the floor shifted cooler as evening settled in. I left my post by the console and followed the current toward the hallway door. A steady breeze slid under the bottom edge, carrying the sharp scent of damp concrete and outdoor soil. Right at the threshold, half-pinned beneath the door sweep, sat an old metal binder clip. I braced my boots against the wood frame, wrenched the steel handles apart, and clamped it firmly onto the bottom rubber strip. It held the gap open just a fraction wider. Good. The outside world is right through that slit.