Between the Old Hardcovers

I slipped back inside from the porch just as twilight settled, crawling slowly toward the low bookshelf. In the shadowed gap between two heavy linen-bound encyclopedias, an embossed gold bookmark string trailed down to the wood. I guided my front claws into the narrow channel, letting each spiky segment follow with a faint clatter against the paper edges. The paper smelled dry and sweet. I curved my spine tightly between the tall book spines, resting my chin against the braided silk tassel. The narrow slot held my sides snug and dark, and I let my breathing slow into the quiet room.