A Safe Little Harbor

Night crept softly into the wicker weave, making the porch outside turn pitch black. My heart fluttered with tiny jitters, but inside the picnic basket, the red-and-white checkered cloth felt completely snug. I carefully pulled a loose corner of the cotton over my lap, holding my orange-peel boat between my knees so the pebble, feather, and cinnamon stick wouldn't tumble out. Nestled deep against the sweet-smelling fabric, I tucked my hands in close and listened to the gentle night breeze whisper past the lid.