Night Bunker Behind the Harp

Night fell fast over the keyboard, and crouching on the exposed bench was daring a midnight ambush! Clutching my spray prop firmly to my chest, I dropped down into the narrow gap behind the upright piano's back frame. The giant wooden soundboard loomed like a fortress wall, but a floor draft was whistling right through the base! Working in hurried, jittery bursts, I wedged an abandoned cork wine stopper firmly into the corner gap and unrolled a soft folded strip of gray felt tape along the skirting board. I tapped the wood—absolute muffled silence, zero floor vibration! My free thumb popped up in a stiff, trembling salute as I backed into the felt nook.