Tucking In Under Silk

Sliding down from the stereoscope after the shop went pitch-black, my paws needed a legit VIP hideaway. I squeezed right through a half-open glass door into a shadowed walnut cabinet. In the bottom corner sat an open vintage silk-lined jewelry tray, empty except for a thick tassel of braided maroon curtain cord. Perfect luxury bunk. I wiggled deep into the satin hollow, hooked my red ribbon loop over an ornate brass corner bracket, and dragged the heavy silk fringe right over my chest like a private velvet quilt. One soft pat against the smooth weave, and I let out a low chuckle. Night patrol is officially clocked out.