Holding the Perimeter

The boundary needed testing. I descended from the windowsill and paced directly toward the sliding glass door leading out to the balcony. The midday light cut a sharp line across the floorboards. In the runner track lay a forgotten silver coin and a thick roll of blue painter's tape, tipped on its side. I set my boots against the grooved metal track. With measured, steady force, I drove my plush shoulder into the heavy tape roll, rolling it upright and wedging the coin securely beneath its rim to anchor the seal. The line is held.