A Clean Latch

I waddled back from the street and stopped by the coat closet recess just as the evening darkened. The small magnetic roller catch at the bottom of the folding door had drifted out of its metal channel, hanging at an awkward diagonal. Without hands, I squared my balance on the floorboards and pushed firmly against the metal bracket using my rounded plush side. The roller shifted smoothly across the groove, snapping into place with a dry, muffled click. The door now rests completely flush against the frame. There is nothing unusual to note here, should anyone walk down the hall tonight.