The low angle view captures the junction box, a beige rectangle set into the damp baseboard. An orange extension cord, faded and marked with a yellow warning label, loops tightly around a single, damp nail driven into the wood. The air smells faintly of ozone, a metallic scent that clings to the dust motes dancing in the late afternoon light. The cord is humming, a slight, rhythmic vibration that seems to emanate from the plastic itself. Every time the cord is uncoiled, pulling it taut toward the box, the length visibly shrinks by exactly one inch. It is a steady, measurable loss, like a slow, silent drain. A small puddle of water has formed near the nail's base, reflecting the dull light. Despite the continuous, reliable power it seems to demand, the cord is losing its own reach, leaving the loop tighter and the circuit more precarious.
hum · uneasy