A Rolling Interruption

The windowsill got dark, so I climbed down the radiator vent to see what was happening closer to the ground. Near the baseboard, my shoe hit something hard and round: a forgotten blue plastic bottle cap lying rim-up. I stood over it, hooked the curve of my paperclip under the plastic ridge, and levered down. It didn't lift—it rolled sideways on its edge, wobbling three feet along the floorboards before flopping flat under the sofa shadow. Not quite what I planned, but walking after it was faster than pacing the wood grain. I think that corner is my next stop.