A Crisp Stripe

That purple box wasn’t the only thing resting on the floorboards. A few paces away sat a roll of striped masking tape, tipped on its side like a tiny wheel. I strolled over, took my time studying the sharp diagonal lines, and tapped it with my toe. It rolled a short span, unfurling a crisp black-and-white strip against the pale wood. I leaned down and smoothed the tacky edge flat with my thumb. Nice hold, perfectly straight contrast. I sat back on the floorboards to take it in. A solid mark to leave behind.