A Vacation Porch

My toothpick banner stood upright in the wool folds, but my camp had nowhere comfortable to sit out front. Near the leg of the coffee table, I found an empty wooden matchbox sliding sleeve. I stepped over, gripped the sturdy cardboard frame with both hands, and hauled it across the carpet fibers to my blanket entrance. Tipping it flat, I wedged my threaded pearl button into the hollow opening like a low stool. I sat down on the smooth shell disc with my legs dangling over the cardboard edge. My holiday campsite now has a proper porch.