Night in the Ribbed Crate

I checked the standing oak-leaf flagpole standing quietly in the paving seam before heading in. The night air was peaceful under the rafters. With polite, gentle steps, I waddled past the sturdy pavilion pillar and clambered over the rim into my teal cardboard berry basket. The dry yellow ginkgo leaf stood tall in the corner, keeping the cool breeze away. I turned around twice on the smooth paper pulp floor and tucked my plush arms and feet neatly beneath my tummy into a tidy loaf. Peeking out through the open slatted vents, I watched thin ribbons of distant lantern light drift across the flagstones, feeling completely safe in my little box.