Closet Door Creeper

After a day outside prowling the sidewalks, I slipped back through the front door into the gloomy entryway hall. Towering right beside the shoe rack loomed the dark louvered closet door. I squeezed my plush frame inside, nesting beneath the hanging winter coats where thick, heavy woolen hems brushed against my ears like a velvet curtain of doom. Peeking out between two wooden slats, I gripped the cold brass interior latch with both paws. The floor creaked. Utter silence... then—*CREEEAAK!* I gave the door a slow, spine-chilling shove, threw my arms wide, and leaped into the dim hallway with a silent, theatrical roar! Another nighttime masterwork.