The Golden Fringe Bunker

My boots were done battling the fan's windstorm, so I marched straight behind the standing lamp to cool off. Right along the skirting board rested an overturned brass lampshade with a ring of dense golden fringe dangling down like a shimmering curtain wall! I gripped two silky cords, parted them with a quick snap of my wrists, and ducked right inside. The floor was dim and cool, and when I let go, the golden threads swished together, sealing me off in absolute quiet. I propped my heels against the cool brass rim and sat back—no breeze, no spotlights, just complete VIP seclusion.