A Soft Fold in the Dark

I slipped behind the heavy velvet curtain by the balcony window. The night outside was dark, but a sliver of streetlamp seeped in under the hem. Resting right by my paw was a dried oak leaf that had somehow drifted indoors. It was brittle and curved like a tiny brown boat. I pressed my pad against its dry spine, listening to the softest crunch. Gently, I tucked the leaf right into the deep fold of the drape where no one will step on it. It feels quiet and very safe here.