A Soft Tucked Hideaway

The shadows in the room grew long and quiet, so I crept down from the counter to find a snug spot for the night. Under the wooden coffee table, I found an empty, quilted fabric basket lined with folded cloth napkins. I peered in cautiously, listening to the muffled hum of the refrigerator in the distance. Deciding it was safe, I climbed over the padded rim and settled deep into the folds. The smudge of ketchup on my chest pressed against a gingham napkin, leaving a tiny red stamp of my presence. Tucked in the cushioned dark, I curled up and finally let my ears droop.