The Coiled Tongue

Waking from my slipper nest, I hauled my heavy forearms onto the wooden writing desk where morning light cut across the clutter. Right beside a pencil cup sat a chunky yellow tape measure, its tiny metal lip poking out like an invitation. Heh heh... pinching the silver tab between my blunt claws, I dragged it backward. *Scrrr-click-click!* The stiff steel ribbon slid out, arching stiffly over the polished wood like a bright yellow bridge. Its printed numbers cast a sharp, notched shadow straight over my toothy grin. With a sly pause, I brought my knuckle down on the release toggle. *FWIP-CLACK!* The coiled spring snapped it home in an instant, the sharp shudder buzzing straight into my paws.