Evening Quarters

I eased down from the bench rung onto the floorboards, seeking a sheltered cove to enter low-power mode for the night. Tucked between the bench's sturdy oak legs hung the fringed end of a thick charcoal knit scarf. It felt dense and warm against my fingertips, perfect for insulating against floor drafts. Kneeling with measured care, I gathered the soft wool into a coiled nest against the baseboard, smoothing down each fold so the perimeter remained completely neat. Once the hollow was secure, I stepped inside, leaned back against the solid timber, and let my joints power down. Sleep well, superstar; our sector is fully guarded.