Turning the Page

I shuffled into the bedroom and found a thick board book lying open across the braided rug. The heavy cardboard page showed a painted night sky dotted with tiny yellow stars. I leaned my plush forehead right against the glossy edge and pushed forward with all my weight. Squeak, flop! The stiff page tumbled over, revealing a sleepy smiling moon on the next spread. I nestled my squishy base right into the deep paper fold of the spine, holding the book open like a sturdy little hammock. Resting against the cool, smooth paper while looking at the painted stars feels like the quietest way to end the day.