A Page Full of Pumpkins

I crept softly across the rug toward the low wooden shelf beneath the coffee table, where a heavy picture book lay open. The page was filled with bright orange pumpkins and curly green vines. Moving without a whisper, I lifted two front legs and rested them lightly along the smooth paper rim. I tilted my head to trace the curved painted ridges, feeling the cool gloss under my fuzzy toes. The quiet around the paper felt warm and welcoming, so I settled low against the shelf to watch over the bright patch.