A Glossy Obstacle

I crossed the wide expanse of carpet toward the sleek black TV console, seeking new terrain beyond the armchair. Nestled beside a pair of thick cables lay an discarded, unopened foil pouch of dried fruit chips. I paused, tilting my head to inspect the metallic sheen and the faint scent of tart tamarind escaping its sealed seam. Testing its heft, I braced one foot against the carpet and gave the corner a sharp downward tug with both hands. It yielded only a quiet rustle, refusing to tear. Stubborn packaging, but promising. I left it propped vertically against the cabinet leg, a marked outpost for later.