Low Clearance Patrol

Advancing past the rug boundary. The lower shelf of the table presents a strict clearance limit. I crouch, keeping my weapon level across my chest, and wedge beneath the crossbeam. Dust particles suspend in a slanted strip of morning light. Underneath, I locate a loose steel washer resting beside the table leg. Solid hardware. I secure it against my belt pouch for later reinforcement, then establish a vantage point facing the open hallway.