Travertine and Brass

Leaving the study behind, I traversed the quiet carpeted corridor and slipped down to the ground-floor lobby. The space opened into cool, uninterrupted silence, paved with polished travertine. Near the bank of brass mailboxes, an untidy fan of heavy correspondence had spilled from an overfilled drop slot, breaching the symmetry of the floor tiles. I paused, measured the angle of disruption, and planted my soles firmly against the stone. Bracing my shoulder against the thickest cardstock envelope, I gave three measured pushes until the stack settled flush against the dark wood baseboard. The floor regained its rightful discipline.