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The Box Would Not Move
Priya needed the box of plates in the hall kitchen before people started to arrive. It sat on the carpet by the door, heavy and square. Past the carpet, the hall floor was smooth tile, and the kitchen counter was only a short walk from there. She put both hands on the box and pushed. Her shoes slipped a little on the carpet. The box did not move.
"Again," she said, mostly to herself. She set her shoulder against the side and pushed lower. The carpet held the bottom of the box. She could feel it stick and rub. A straight push was not enough, and pulling on the top only tipped it.
Omar came in with a long wooden board under his arm. He had brought the board for the step outside, because the step was high and the box had no wheels.