The rubber wedge rests against the threshold, its worn edge catching the late afternoon light. It is positioned slightly off-center, always angled away from the door's natural swing. A faint, oily residue has accumulated near the base, staining the pale wood grain where the door has repeatedly settled. The slight compression indent in the floorboard suggests a persistent, unseen pressure, a need for the seal that is never quite achieved. Every time the door closes, it emits a low, protesting squeak, a sound that seems to acknowledge the doorstop's misplaced vigilance. The rubber itself is dusted with fine particulate matter, and the scuff marks on the floorboard tell of countless adjustments, each one a minor, futile correction.
squeak · uneasy