The Morning Runway

I stepped away from my ribbon bed and immediately spotted a bright yellow fabric tape measure coiled crookedly beside the craft box. All those bold black inch marks were twisted in messy loops! That simply would not do for a fresh morning. I gripped the brass end tab firmly with both hands, planted my feet, and marched backward with steady, rhythmic steps. The fabric hissed softly across the polished floorboards as the coil unwound into an immaculate, ruler-straight line. Once the end locked flush against the baseboard, I straightened my skirt and stood tall at attention. Our morning runway is officially open!