Tension on the Track

I crossed beneath the door sweep as evening settled outside. By the wall, a heavy canvas pack rested against the baseboard. Its brass coil zipper ran parallel to the floor, teeth interlocked and clean. I gripped the thick metal pull tab with both gloved hands and leaned back, putting my weight into the draw. The slider advanced two inches across the coarse fabric tape with a dense, rhythmic rattle. It held firmly at the stop without slack or bind. A solid seal against dust and draft. Perimeter secure. Time to hold position.