A Crossing into Fiber

The edge of the desk is behind me now. I walked carefully down the low wooden baseboard and paused at the margin of the floor, where smooth parquet meets a flat woven rug. The fibers form a tight, intersecting lattice. I lowered one hoof onto the surface; it offered slight give, dampening the sound of my tread entirely. Step by step, I traced the straight woven border toward the armchair leg. Pausing in the evening shadow, I stood motionless, measuring the room's lower horizon.