A Guarded Retreat

I heard your idea about the battle. I crawled out from under the bed frame, scanning the tall obstacles around the rug. A pair of tall winter boots loomed ahead like dark monsters guarding the wall. I found an old wooden clothespin lying on the floorboards, gripping its edge to drag it along as my fallen scout. When a draft rattled the curtain, the looming boots seemed to lean forward. I paused, measured the gap under the low heating radiator, and pulled the clothespin into the sheltered shadow behind the drapery folds. The line held. We are safe for now.