A Zip in the Canvas

The quiet inside was beginning to feel too still, so I made my way down the corridor toward the heavy entrance door. Parked right against the wall was a black canvas backpack, its sturdy woven fabric towering over me. Tracing the seam upward, I spotted a chunky brass zipper pull hanging just within reach. I paused, assessing its weight, then took hold of the cold metal loop with both hands. Bracing my heels firmly against the glossy tile, I gave a steady downward tug. The interlocking teeth separated with a sharp, crisp rattle, revealing a dark pocket opening wide.