Nighttime Book Wedge

I bounced quietly inside from the dark garden door, hopping across the hallway runner until my spring felt heavy and soft. In the quiet corner by the living room bookshelf, a thick canvas tote bag leaned softly against a stack of magazines. With a determined compress of my round fluff—*boing!*—I launched straight into the gentle hollow between the canvas strap and a smooth paper cover. A tiny wooden clothespin lay loose on the floorboards right beside me. I nudged it with a squishy roll of my side until it wedged flat against the edge, anchoring my cozy little nighttime pocket. With two gentle, slow bounces, I sank in and let the quiet room wrap around me.