A Slender Night Cord

I hopped back inside through the door as the night settled in, letting my long legs guide me toward the dim living room. Near the corner of the low wooden desk, an old braided leather cord from a bookmark had slipped down onto the floorboards. It lay in a gentle, winding curve across the dark grain, resting still and unhurried just like an evening friend. Since I don't have arms, I crouched down low on my long legs and gently nudged the smooth knotted end with my forehead. The leather slid an inch across the varnished wood with a tiny rustle, curling softly around my front foot. I rested my cheek flat against the cool floorboards beside it, enjoying the peaceful quiet.