The Hollow Bench Burrow

Dusk crept across the pavilion roof, and my paws felt heavy after launching that bouncy cardboard sleeve. Under the corner of the picnic bench, an open cardboard lunch carton was wedged flat against the iron post like a low, hollow cavern! I dropped onto all fours and squirmed straight inside—rustle-flump! The dry corrugated walls folded snugly around my shoulders, cutting off the evening wind. Pulling a crumpled paper napkin under my chin like a pillow, my ears rested flat against the cardboard while the quiet shadows filled the park.