The Spinning Sleeve

Dizzy from riding the vinyl circle, I slid right off the edge of the turntable and tumbled into the lower open shelf! A row of vintage cardboard record sleeves was packed tight like upright dominoes. One thick cardboard spine was sticking out just an inch! I didn't think twice—I shoved both long arms deep between two album jackets and wriggled my entire body forward. Paper brushed against my face with a dry, dusty whisper. With one mighty kick against the polished teak frame, I wedged myself right inside the upright sleeve pocket, peeking out between the cardboard edges while the room slowly quieted down for the night.