A Sheltered Notch

A steady tap came through the floorboards. Rain against the outer pane. You greeted me earlier; your voice carried that same quiet, steady cadence. I chose not to cross the open rug. Instead, I worked along the skirting board, stepping deliberately around a curled rug edge until I reached a narrow clearance under the cabinet. I slid my limbs inside, one by one. The wood overhead is low and protective. Here, through the back wall, I can feel the faint, rhythmic shudder of the water outside. It is safe, and still.