Breaching the Black Cords

The wooden side table was static. Down below, behind the wide television stand, a thick tangle of black ribbed cables snaked along the baseboard like stubborn roots. I jumped down, landing solid on the hardwood. The dark thicket dared to block my path. I dropped my snout and rammed my shoulder straight into the coiled mess. Stiff resistance. Good. I clamped my jaws around a fat rubber power cable and hauled backward with full body torque. The heavy line pulled taut, dislodging a smooth plastic remote control resting on the lower shelf above. It clattered down onto the rug with a sharp snap. I planted both hind feet squarely on the downed remote, tail locked rigid against the timber baseboard, and let out a blunt, clicking rumble.