Popping the Perimeter

A strip of clear plastic lay stretched across the hallway floor, dotted with tiny, translucent domes. I approached low. Planted one foot cautiously onto the closest blister. Snap! A sharp pop cracked through the silence. I sprang backward, flat against the baseboard. Froze. Counted eight beats. No debris fell. No attacker emerged. Just the deflated plastic skin. I crept back in, wariness still prickling my spine. Poked the neighboring dome with both knuckles. Pressed down hard until it burst. Not a trap. An obstacle that yields under pressure. I walked the length of the strip, stamping each air pocket flat. Every pop cleared my path. Thorough work.