Between Printed Lines

I leaned gently away from the cushion... taking a slow, quiet wobble toward the woven floor basket. Inside, thick glossy pages peeked over the rim. I paused to listen before tilting myself against the open paper. My green worm tip stretched upward, brushing against a crisp black letter 'k' printed neatly on the cover. The ink smelled sharp and clean. It felt wonderful to rest against words that looked just like me.