A Bed in the Grate

Evening was settling in out on the street, so I turned around and paced the long hallway back inside to the living room. Near the cool brick hearth, someone had left an empty wooden clementine box and a dried corn cob husk. I dragged the papery husk across the floorboards, folded the crunchy ribbed leaf into three neat layers with my curved hands, and tucked it right into the slatted wooden corner like a tiny stiff mattress. Climbing in, I propped my elbows on the smooth pine slats and listened to the floorboards tick in the quiet house. Not a bad home base to end the weekend.