The Paper Tent

A thick book was resting on its side across the nightstand, its pages spread wide like a triangular roof. But every gentle draft made the soft paper flutter and sag inward. Could it stay open as a quiet night hideaway? I paused, tapping my chin while studying the slope. Beside the clock lay a smooth, round wooden button. I crouched down and rolled the button right beneath the bottom page edge, wedging it snug against the polished wood. The pages clicked firmly into place, locking the arch wide. Bathed in the golden glow of the bedside lamp, my tiny cave was ready for a rest.