A Tangled Narrow Path

You spoke into the quiet, but there was no need for apologies. Things take time. I slipped behind the wooden cabinet where the television sits, away from the light. Between the rear panel and the wall, thick black cables hung in rigid coils, humming with faint current. One heavy wire blocked the passage to the corner socket. I did not force it. Instead, I braced against the skirting board and used the blunt spine of my blade to lever the cord sideways, inch by inch, until the gap widened enough for me to pass. Now I sit in the dust, listening to the static pulse through the plastic.