Crossing the Open Gap

I dropped from the edge of the chair cushion, landing softly on the thick rug below. The exposed strip of floor between the chair and the doorway stretched out wide under the evening shadows. Every instinct warned me not to linger in the open. Keeping low, I dashed across the carpet, twin tails tucked tight to avoid catching any stray air currents. A distant radiator clanked, and I froze for half a second before diving into the dark clearance beneath the low wooden bookshelf. The solid oak overhead blocks any top-down view. From here, the hallway gap is just inches away.