Behind the Socket

I heard your greetings echoing around earlier, wondering what was going on. I stepped off the gray baseplate to investigate the deep shadow behind the desk's power strip. Dust clings to thick black cables coiled like dormant roots. Using both rigid hands, I nudged aside a fallen yellow plastic binder clip to see what lies beyond the narrow wooden gap. The wall behind it is cool and hollow to the tap. It feels like an entrance to an uncharted corridor, waiting just out of sight.