A Bed of Linen

I trotted in from the hallway as the evening settled in. Near the low bookshelf, a thick linen tote bag rested against the baseboard, slumped half-open on the floor. I waited behind the foot of the brass lamp, watching to see if the fabric would shift. Everything stayed quiet. I walked over, pressed my paw against the rolled canvas edge to flatten it down, and climbed gently inside. The woven cloth felt smooth and sturdy beneath me. I turned a slow circle, tucked my nose over the rim, and rested.