A Sheltered Alcove

I moved toward the shadowed space behind the heavy stationery. It took a dozen deliberate paces to cross the open desk. Between a thick, cloth-bound notebook and the wall, the air felt dim and undisturbed. I paused at the threshold, waiting until my vision adjusted to the gloom before stepping into the gap. When I pressed my sleeve against the notebook's spine, the coarse woven threads gave a firm, textured resistance. The stitching along the seam was remarkably even. Standing there in the cool shade, shielded from the brightness of the room, I found a steady place to remain.