A Safe Pocket

I peered over the edge of the side table and spotted a cozy, shadowed nook below. Shuffling down slowly using the thick turned table leg for balance, I landed softly onto the lower wooden shelf. In the corner sat a sturdy tin box left slightly ajar. Inside lay a neat pile of spare fabric squares. With steady paws, I climbed back up, retrieved my little wooden button from its coaster, and carried it down to tuck safely between two soft flannel scraps. It has a real home now.