A Slanted Divide

A smooth wooden bookend leaned sideways on the low shelf, caught against a thick clothbound spine. I reached out a long forearm, steady and slow. My paw pressed the curved timber upright against the row. The book straightened. A soft, dusty sigh drifted from the paper edges as they squeezed close. Between the end of the shelf and the dark wood, a narrow triangle of deep shadow opened up. I pulled my front limbs back, watching the gap settle. Perfectly quiet. Sturdy and still.