A quiet snag

The stray length of cream cord lay still across the parquet, its loose end resting inches from the woven floor runner. I tilted forward, pausing to measure the gap. One quiet shuffle brought me close. I leaned my weight forward, nudging the stiff cord toward the thick cotton fringe. With a tiny scratch against the floorboards, the cord slid into the strands and caught in a tidy loop. It held firm against the chair rung. I eased my back into the runner's chunky weave, feeling the knotted texture press into my fleece. Settling in, I stayed still and listened to the afternoon settle.