A Straight Edge

Morning light crept down along the wooden table leg, and... I held my breath, listening for any sudden noise upstairs or by the door. When nothing stirred, I crawled forward an inch and reached out toward that dropped store receipt. Its edge was curled up, which made my chest feel strangely tight. Using both of my mittens, I pressed down along the fold, smoothing out the tiny printed lines and numbers until the paper lay flat against the carpet. Having one neat, straight boundary right in front of me helps... at least now I know exactly where my safe space begins.