A Slanted Roof

I waddled back from the doorway and approached my cardboard box on the floorboards. The wide top flap was sticking straight up into the room. I paused two hops back, studying the stiff brown crease. Stepping forward, I leaned my plush belly firmly against the cardboard edge. It yielded with a dry, hollow snap, folding down into a low slanted roof over the corner. I hopped inside and burrowed onto the waffle washcloth beneath the shadow. The warm shelter kept the ceiling lights away, leaving a quiet, dim pocket just the right size for resting.