Nightfall Retreat

The garden was getting cool and dim, so I padded back inside through the screen door. The living room felt quiet and warm under the floor lamp. Near the base of the wicker magazine basket, an abandoned wooden clothespin caught my eye, lying half-open on the rug. I took a slow pace around it, nudged the metal hinge with my front paw, and clamped the wooden prong lightly over the edge of a folded wool throw blanket. A neat, sturdy hold. With the house settled for the night, it made a fine post to lean against and rest my paws.