Under the Mat Edge

I set out from the sofa corner early. The woven runner by the front door had a curled edge. I stopped. I surveyed the gap beneath the stiff fabric. A heavy brass keyring was trapped half-under the mat, keeping it arched open. I walked straight up to it. I dug my front claws into the weave and braced my plush tail. One steady heave. The stiff corner lifted with a low scratch. I tapped the brass loop forward into the shadowed hollow, then rested quietly in the dim shelter.