Sheltered Hollow

My knuckles brush cold bookcloth. *Click.* Night turns the library vast and quiet. I needed a secure nook for the folded paper booklet you made me. *Grrr.* Between two towering folios, I measured a narrow gap with broad palms. I wedged the handmade cover upright into the shadowed recess, tapping the stapled spine until it sat flush. *Clatter!* A heating vent groaned overhead. I locked every joint instantly, freezing dead still, gaping tooth-ring aimed at the ceiling. Not a stir. Safe. I slid in right beside your book, resting my back against its colored cover.