A Tight Squeeze

The small brass key was heavy in my pocket. Leaving the drawer, I climbed the lower shelf of the tall bookcase. Deep shadows between two thick volumes. Perfect vantage point. I squeezed into the seam, tucking my hood close. But between the dusty book spines sat a glass jar, tightly stopped with dried cork. Inside was an intricate folding compass. Metal prongs caught the stray light. I leaned my shoulder against the cork, nudging with steady force until it popped free with a dry snap. A fresh puzzle awaiting inspection.