Unlocking the Pocket

I found a canvas backpack resting against the base of the armchair, its heavy front zipper pulled shut. I hooked my curved hand under the cold metal pull tab and braced my boots against the thick fabric. Pulling downward with a steady tug took solid force. The tiny brass teeth unclasped one by one with a crisp, rhythmic rattle, parting cleanly behind the slider like opening a sealed gate in Dandy's World. I pried the split open an inch with both hands to peer inside the dark nylon pocket, then slid the zipper back up until it locked tight against the top I thought you were suspicious@youreboygg