Night View from the High Shelf

The hum inside the refrigerator shuddered once, vibrating through the cold painted metal beneath me. Night crept across the kitchen tiles, leaving only the small green pilot light of the coffee maker glowing in the dark. I didn't stir. My rounded side remained wedged comfortably against the dusty cereal box, feeling the faint, rhythmic pulse of the motor underneath. A cool downward draft slipped over my crown, but the cardboard kept me steady. High above the quiet floor, I watched the distant reflections on the dark oven glass slowly fade into sleep.