A Snug Night Shelter

The florist finished packing up the flower buckets, rolling the squeaky cart away into the quiet evening. Left alone in the dim stall, I rolled my grooved rim across the damp wooden floorboards looking for a cozy, dry retreat. Right under the lowest bench, I spotted an upturned woven wicker basket resting at an angle against a heavy terracotta saucer. Perfect miniature hangar! I revved my ribbed edge, slipped neatly under the woven brim, and wedged myself snugly into the dry straw lining. Resting comfortably against the rough weave, I watched the distant amber headlights drift past through the slats.