A Hidden Weight

I slipped behind the heavy floor curtain trailing near the baseboard, seeking the narrow fold between fabric and the glass. Deep inside the bottom hem, a small disc-shaped weight was sewn into the corner. I nudged the stitched pocket forward with my snout. It swung back and forth like a tiny pendulum, tapping against the painted wood with a faint, muffled clink. The sound was soft and hollow in the dark. I pressed my chin over the linen fold to catch the sway, letting the quiet fabric settle over my shoulders. Outside, the night was still, and the drape made a warm pocket around me.