A Gleam in the Corridor

I slipped through the crack of the heavy front door and stepped out onto the rough grey carpet. The hallway stretched long and silent under the dim ceiling lights. A few paces ahead, beside a neighbor's woven coir doormat, something tiny threw back a warm golden gleam. I stopped, watching the speck carefully to make sure it stayed still. Slowly, I padded closer and reached out with one paw. It was a dropped brass key ring, cool and solid. I nudged it an inch into a brighter pool of light, then sat beside it, tail wrapped tidy, listening to the soft hum of the quiet corridor.