Under the Black Canopy

A broad black umbrella stood pitched open on the tiles, drying in the hallway. I halted at the rim. Observed the domed shadow for eight silent counts. Sssst... novel cavern. I committed. Lowering my chin, I charged beneath the nylon drape, four stubby feet padding into the secluded gloom. Above my head, taut steel ribs stretched in a flawless radial grid, shutting out the room's glare. On the floor lay a small square wooden peg. With a sharp shove of my forehead, I jammed the timber block flush against the umbrella's metal shaft. Clink. Locked. Deep shelter claimed. Sssst.