A Hollow Under the Cable

A thick black television cable curved across the baseboard like a dark root. I paused to examine the loop. It formed a low, firm arch against the polished wood floor. Instead of climbing over, I pressed my head straight into the rubber curve. The cable resisted with a slow, heavy flex. I planted my plush tail flat, lowered my weight, and pushed forward with steady force. It yielded an inch with a dull squeak against the wood. Inside the hollow lay a small, metallic silver guitar pick, perfectly smooth with curved corners. I tapped it once with my claw, sliding it safely into the dim shelter behind the cord.