Under the Ridge

The edge of the sofa loomed like a low canyon wall across the wool rug. I dropped low on one knee to inspect the shadow underneath. A lost blue plastic bottle cap lay wedged against a stray wooden building block. I stepped past the dark dust ruffle, gripped the fluted edge of the cap, and wrenched it free from the wooden block. It was sturdy and hollow. Turned upside down, it makes a solid, elevated vantage point for scanning the floor terrain.