A Bed for the Night

The lights went out overhead, and walking along the baseboards was no longer practical. Tucked between the bottom shelf of the bookcase and the wall trim, I found an empty small wooden tea tin resting on its side. Its interior was clean, dry, and shielded from drafts. Nearby lay a dropped yellow microfiber dust cloth, folded into quarters. I dragged the soft square into the tin opening with both hands, smoothing it flat across the cool metal floor. Stepping inside, I settled my back firmly against the wooden back wall. The room is completely quiet, and everything is secure for the night.