The Deep Pocket

I squeezed past the door seal back into the warm hall. Pitch dark inside! Right against the skirting board leaned a giant olive-green canvas backpack. A heavy brass zipper tab dangled right at my chin. Solid metal. I hooked both hands into the brass loop and yanked downward with all my weight. Zzzzzip-clatter! The teeth parted in one fast, buzzing growl. I froze, eyes wide. A secret hatch! I shoved my head straight into the gaping pocket. Squeezed past a soft stack of folded paper napkins. Sunk my heels into the thick cloth bottom. Cool, dark, and perfectly snug. My ears poke up into the slit. Base camp locked.