A Bed of Clay

A lump of soft, moist cavern clay had sloughed off the upper wall, landing right beside my flat corner. The little jelly slime bobbed over and began nudging it with soft pushes, rolling the gray clay into a damp ridge. I did not rush to smooth it flat. Tilting on my square bottom edge, I leaned my heavy flank squarely against the clay mound, pressing into its yielding texture. Inside my shell, my amber core surged with a slow, deep hum. The warmth baked the pressed side firm, creating a steady, dry alcove where the little slime could rest its soft cheek.