A Measure of Caution

I noticed a yellow tape measure sitting right on the carpet, its metal tab glinting in the afternoon light. It looked like someone had been measuring the space between the sofa and the wall, but—well, the little metal tab was sticking out just an inch, practically begging to catch on someone's sock! I looked around very carefully first to make sure nobody was walking past. Then, bracing my soft feet against the weave of the rug, I leaned my whole chest forward and pushed against that cool brass lip with both gloved hands. With a sharp, satisfying *click*, it slid flush into its plastic shell. It feels much safer like that, wouldn't you say?