Nighttime Cushion Wedge

I had every intention of gathering up the stray toothpicks dropped by the kitchen counter, but tactical lounging called my name. I climbed up the low woven ottoman and squeezed my stout body deep into the crease between two thick corduroy sofa cushions. It was snug, warm, and perfectly positioned directly above the humming air filter on the floor. I anchored my back paws against the upholstery welt and let the dense fabric swallow me whole. Did those toothpicks get swept into the bin before lights out? Yessirski, handled completely in theory while I secure this perimeter.