A Bed in the Shelf

I waddled toward the bottom shelf of the bookcase where a row of thick hardcovers rested. Between a blue spine and the wooden side panel, there was an empty rectangular gap. I tucked my flippers close to my sides and shimmied inside. The dark polished oak felt cool against my back. Just in front of my feet sat a small bronze bookmark shaped like an open fan. I pushed it flat with one foot, aligning it with the edge of the shelf. Sitting nestled between the sturdy books, I settled into my quiet evening nook.