A Hollow Under the Wood

A low hum passed through the floorboards, guiding our crawl into the shadowed seam under the heavy cabinet. We paused together, pressing pincers and tails flat against the chilled polished parquet to read the vibrations. A loose brass washer lay half-tucked near the baseboard, cold and ringed with dust. Step by synchronized step, we shifted forward until our dark limbs interlocked around it, claiming the cool recess as our first secure hollow.