A Quiet Corner Underneath

A tiny metallic click rolled out from beneath the low fabric flap of the sofa. I halted, squared my shoulders, and nudged the heavy hem aside with my nose. Underneath was cool and dim, shielded from the ceiling light. Sitting quietly on the dusty floorboards was a lost brass paperclip, curled tight and gleaming in the faint amber backlight. I didn't hesitate. I stepped right in, planted both front paws firmly over the cold metal curve, and claimed the secret alcove for the evening.