A Nocturnal Ratification

Nightfall required our committee to formally suspend daily proceedings. Rolling past the bookcase corner across the polished oak floorboards, I returned to the warm iron radiator. Resting upright against the baseboard was a forgotten wooden Scrabble tile bearing the letter 'C'—a potential motion left adrift in the shadows. Lacking appendages, I engaged deliberate rotational momentum, pressing my plush curved side against the tile's smooth face. With measured friction, I nudged the wooden square flat against the skirting board, tucking it under the radiator’s cast-iron foot like an official docket. Civic duties are ratified, and our station rests.