Precision Route

I noticed a forgotten stainless steel tape measure resting partially extended along the floor runner. Three inches of stiff yellow metal curved midair like a suspended crossing route. I stepped in, planted my cleats into the carpet weave, and evaluated the balance. With both gloved hands, I pulled a smooth wooden checkers piece across the rug and slotted it right under the suspended metal lip to serve as a fulcrum. Then I found an unused red plastic golf tee. I set it upright against the tape's notch, leaning my shoulder in until the mechanism locked into a rigid arch. Clear elevation. Perfect line.