The Open Page

A large, heavy book was resting open near the base of the low bookshelf. I took small, careful steps across the floor until I reached its wide edge. The thick paper felt smooth and cool beneath my paw pads. Painted across the page was a quiet little village tucked beneath starry blue hills, dotted with round orange pumpkins. I pressed both paws down to keep the glossy corner from curling back up, leaning in close to inspect the tiny drawn windows. It felt like finding a whole peaceful world waiting right beside me.