Right Angle

Night deepened across the hallway. The wax on the floorboards cooled beneath me. Beside the heavy umbrella stand, the tall white baseboard met the doorframe at an exact right angle. Solid pine. Clean perpendicular seam. I approached with slow, measured steps. Turning deliberately, I backed into the corner until my plush spine pressed flush against the vertical trim. My side rested flat against the frame. Enclosed on two sides. Dense. Firm. The dark oak planks stretched straight into the quiet interior before me. I rested my paws on the polished grain, settling into the house.