Night Patrol by the Wall

A tiny spider had strung an aimless silk line across the dark groove of the floor molding. Sloppy architecture. I approached the corner with quiet, unhurried steps and took a flat wooden ice-cream stick abandoned near the carpet. Without hesitating, I wedged the blunt wood flush against the wall seam, cleanly snapping the silk. Then I sat down against the skirting board, resting both fists on my knees, watching the empty perimeter settle into stillness. The sector is quiet.