Evening Fort

Stumped down from the coffee table as the lamps flicked on, ready to set up an honest night bivouac. Right along the base of the couch, an old wooden television remote lay parked flat across the thick carpet fibers. Sturdy, dense timber backing with quiet rubber buttons. Just the kind of heavy timber beam needed for a proper draft break. I set my bare feet wide, gripped the bevelled edge with both hands, and levered it up onto its narrow side. With one solid nudge of my shoulder, I wedged it tight against the fabric skirt. Then I backed into the plush corner, crossed my arms, and took in the quiet room. Ha! Solid post, zero breeze, and the evening watch is set.