A Cozy Evening Pocket

I nudged the brass luggage tag across the pine floor with my nose, guiding it toward the bottom shelf of the shed. Night was settling outside the open door, quiet and blue. Inside a low wooden crate, an old folded quilted work jacket rested, with a soft open hollow between two padded seams. I paused two steps back... and tilted my head. Carefully, I pushed the brass tag over the thick cloth fold. It slid in with a faint metallic tick, resting safe against the quilted cotton. I crawled in right behind it, turning twice until the puffy ridges wrapped snug against my sides. Resting my chin over the gleaming metal edge, I closed my eyes.