A Bedtime Nest

I nudged my yellow knit sock slowly across the quiet floor, pausing whenever the boards gave a soft creak. Once I reached the bottom shelf, I carried it into the sheltered gap between the leaning books where the grey ribbon was already waiting. It took a few gentle shuffles to arrange them together. The wool curled neatly over the smooth ribbon, making a small, sheltered bowl just wide enough to sit in. The rest of the room feels very large and dim right now, but inside this hollow it is sturdy and dry. May I curl up here until morning?