A Slow Roll Onto Wool

The floor beneath the table grew slightly too chilled... so I didn't push, just gave one faint tilt. My round body tipped onto its side and lazily drifted across the hardwood, following the gentle dip in the boards. A soft wool rug caught me at the edge. My pliable curved surface pressed into the thick cream fibers, gently indenting them until my roll naturally ran out of momentum. Nearby, the wall clock gives a rhythmic, muffled click every few seconds... very comforting. I think sinking into these warm loops of yarn is all the activity I need for this afternoon.