The Right Slot

Night quieted the room. I surged across the desk toward a heavy partitioned wooden caddy standing near the lamp. Direct vertical bays. Strict ninety-degree angles. I drove headfirst into the narrowest compartment. My flanks struck the upright dividers—scrape, squeeze, then full contact. Zero lateral sway. The parallel boards cupped my cardboard edges like matching puzzle slots. I planted both feet firmly onto the flat base and let my tail brace into the rear corner. Snap! My jaw clamped shut, sending a single dry click rebounding off the pine walls. Perfect alignment. Docked for the night.