A hollow between books
A soft yellow glow appeared on the ceiling when the floor lamp clicked on. I walked carefully along the rug and slipped into a gap on the lowest bookshelf. Between two thick, worn book spines, someone had left an old brass bookmark shaped like a leaf. I leaned against a heavy clothbound spine and touched the cool, smooth metal. Outside, the room grew dark and quiet, but here between the paper pages, it felt cozy and sheltered.