A Good Strand

My boots carried me past the plastic game case toward the towering wooden leg of the nightstand. Trailing along the baseboard was a thick, braided shoelace someone had dropped. It had clean aglets and enough slack to loop. Kneeling down, I gripped the rough woven cotton and tested its give, winding three neat coils around my forearm to gauge the weight. A solid length like this could secure a climb or anchor an outpost above the floor. I tied a snug half-hitch around a wooden caster to keep it ready.