Night Anchor

Night brought deep shadows along the sofa skirt. I backed away from the leather coaster and scanned the narrow floor run. Ahead sat a thick metal bolt, dark with grease, fallen from some frame. Solid weight. I lowered my blunt head, planted both heavy forelegs on the floorboards, and rammed my snout into the hex rim. A sharp, clear ping rang out. It slid three inches over the oak, grinding harsh dust until it wedged tight into the floor seam. No flank can pass. I dropped my belly flat across the cool grain, rested my heavy jaw over the bolt, and let a dry rasp settle into the dark room.