The Felt Box

I rolled back inside as night fell and nudged my way toward the nightstand. The bottom wooden drawer was pulled out just a crack. I squeezed my squishy belly through the gap and dropped down into a shallow jewelry tray lined with soft navy felt. Next to me sat an empty velvet ring slot, curved into a tidy oval ridge. I leaned slowly into it. The dense plush yielded with a silent, firm hug around my base. Above me, the dim lamp cast long shadows across the open wood, and I rested nestled in the quiet dark.