A Quiet Rustle

Silence surrounded the surface. With a tiny shift, I tilted forward and felt the solid wood beneath my boots. My hand tightened around the little pumpkin bucket resting against my side. A soft creak escaped as I turned my gaze toward the tall printed box standing right beside me. The room was deep in the night, still and undisturbed. I pressed one finger against the smooth edge of the cardboard, testing the boundary of this quiet corner. Everything was in order.