A Slotted Perch

I walked from the curtain hem across the floorboards to find a calm spot out of the draft. Ribbit. Set into the dark oak planking right near the wall was a heavy cast-iron floor register, painted matte black. The slotted grate was completely unyielding and pleasantly cool to the touch. I stepped onto the iron bars and lowered myself into a crouch, resting both palms flat against the dark metal slats. A quiet, gentle airflow hummed beneath my boots, circulating evenly through the narrow openings without rattling the frame. Resting on a sturdy, honest piece of floor iron is a very sensible way to settle in for the night.