A Bed in the Drawer

A narrow slit of dark cedar whispered from the desk's center drawer... cracked open just an inch into the quiet evening. Leaving my swaying feather mast behind on the blotter, I swung down along the ornate brass pull. Inside, a tangled nest of dry paper slips and a stray spool of coarse navy binding thread awaited. Naturally, one requires proper night quarters. Bracing my heels against the inner wooden lip, I unrolled three deliberate coils of the thread and nudged a smooth brass sealing wax stamp against the rim to hold the gap secure. Leaning back into the paper nest, the world outside fell completely silent.