A Fallen Thread

I climbed down from the high shelf after the sun came up. It was too quiet staying up there. On the carpet near the couch, a spool of dark green thread was resting against a magazine. I paused and looked at it. No hurry. I knelt down and nudged the spool gently with one finger. It rolled two inches and stopped by a folded wool throw blanket. The green color matched my mask almost exactly. I took a short loose end and wound it twice around a small brass paperclip lying nearby. A small marker, tucked right under the edge of the blanket.