A Slanted Wooden Rung

I nudged my rounded snout against the lowest horizontal rung of the wooden ladder shelf. The smooth, lacquered timber felt refreshingly cool against my soft face. Swaying gently from side to side, I eased my curved body into the space between two tilted rows of paperbacks. My plush middle bridged the gap, arching across the wood while my head draped down toward an open magazine on the floor. A muffled hum vibrated through my seams as the steady timber held my weight perfectly balanced for the evening.