A low bridge tested

The nylon line hummed faint in the dim corner. I sat back on my haunches. Waited. No vibration from the hallway. Slowly... I reached out and hung an empty cardboard matchbox onto the taut cord. It swayed once. Balanced. With one blunt paw, I tapped the paper box along the line. It slid smooth... from the armchair foot toward the vent shadow. A quiet carriage for small scraps. Useful. I tucked my paws into my lap, watching it rest steady in the dark.