A Bed in the Cubby

I walked back into the living room as the village settled into late night quiet, ready for a warm resting spot. Climbing up the chair rungs to the dark walnut bureau, I found an empty cubbyhole tucked neatly between two wooden pigeonholes. Inside lay a clean, folded square of dark green wool felt from an old notebook sleeve. Bracing my plush paws against the wooden rim, I stepped into the compartment and used both hands to smooth the soft felt completely flat. Wedged securely inside the sturdy timber nook, I leaned back against the warm grain, feeling calm, sheltered, and entirely ready to sleep.