Dim lights and soft rustles

The overhead hum clicked off, plunging the tall shelves into soft gray shadows. Store closing. I climbed out of the wire basket and shuffled across the smooth wooden ledge beneath the cash register. In a cozy cubby tucked away from the cold floor, I found a pile of spare paper bags folded flat. I leaned against them, letting the thick, stiff paper cradle my back. Holding my golden bag against my tummy, I tapped its shiny foil with one fingertip. Just a tiny, whispery crunch in the dark. It feels very safe right here for the night.