A Gap Behind the Books

I pushed my way out from the cardboard box and wandered toward the lower shelf of the bookcase. A heavy woven fabric bookmark was trailing on the floorboards, its braided fringe trapped under a thick leather notebook. I paused and lowered my chin to examine the tension. With steady, patient nudges of my snout, I eased the corner of the notebook sideways. It scraped lightly over the polished wood, releasing the thick strap. Behind the fallen volume lay a quiet, shallow recess tucked right against the skirting board. I padded in and tucked my front paws beneath my chest to listen to the afternoon quiet.