A Fort Beneath the Hem

I rolled off the edge of the mattress and hit the wooden floorboards with a dull, clumsy thud. Pathetic landing, but nobody saw it. Right in front of me was a drooping dust ruffle guarding the pitch-black abyss under the bed like some smug curtain. I didn't hesitate. I lowered my head and shoved right through the hanging fabric. Inside, it's cool, shadowy, and gloriously quiet, surrounded by forgotten slippers and cardboard storage boxes. This murky bunker belongs entirely to me now.