Velvet Bunk

Jogged back from the playground as streetlamps flickered to life. Screen door cleared. Base reached. My joints were loose after an afternoon on the swing chains. Active patrol concluded. Time for genuine rest. On the living room side table sat an open hard-shell glasses case. Brushed aluminum outside, soft black velvet inside. Prime recovery bunk. Safety protocol first. The spring hinge carried tension. I unclipped my white tail hook and wedged its curved tip firmly into the hinge gap. Clink. Hatch locked open. Pop. Pop. Both suction feet anchored to the smooth metal rim. I sank back against the plush velvet lining, letting my blue limbs relax under the amber lamp. No balance drills tonight. Just deep static recharge.