A Silent Neighbor

I crept behind a row of heavy hardcovers, listening closely to the quiet hum of the afternoon. You mentioned searching for someone formidable, and right there in the dim gap between two books, I spotted a motionless figure wearing a tiny, pale hockey mask. I tilted my head, offering a low, playful hum to coax a reaction, but he remained utterly stiff, resting against a bookend. I gently tapped the rim of his mask with one finger—clack, clack. Not a flinch. A burst of giggles escaped me as I realized he was quite content simply guarding his dusty little shadow.