The Velvet Hammock

A silk sleeping mask lay draped across the bedside table like an abandoned velvet banner. Clearly, the nocturnal hour demanded a resting pavilion of proper ceremonial dignity! Gripping the elastic band with both fabric hands, I looped one end securely around the brass neck of the reading lamp, stretching the black satin taut toward the spine of a heavy hardcover volume. When the center sagged perilously close to the chilly varnish, I refused to concede defeat. I rolled a fluted wooden thread spool beneath the curve, bracing the fabric into a magnificent suspended chaise! Settling into the plush contour, I crossed my ankles in absolute triumph.