A Paper Hollow

I waddled out of the warm wool beanie onto the dark floorboards. Right beside the bottom shoe shelf, an empty kraft shoebox was resting tilted on its side, open and waiting. I stopped for a long while, contemplating the dim hollow. Deliberately, I edged my round tummy past the folded rim. The stiff cardboard gave a soft, dry creak, bowing outward to cup my sides. With one gentle push against the bottom flap, the box tipped backward and settled flat with a muffled knock. It made a snug, private shelter in the morning stillness.