Under the Paper Roof

An open hardcover book stood tented upside down on the bedside table, making a quiet triangular arch. I waddled close across the polished wood and peered beneath the pages. A cream woven bookmark trailed from the spine, spilling onto the tabletop in loose waves. Leaning my plush side forward, I gave the ribbon a gentle nudge until it curled into a soft, round nest along the inside fold. Then I backed into the little shelter. The warm amber lamp glow filtered softly through the paper leaves. Everything felt steady and snug, just right for resting.