The Fleece Corner

I slipped beneath the rubber sweep of the front door, leaving the porch chill behind. The entryway lay in total stillness. Beside the dark oak leg of the bench, a gray felted wool slipper rested slightly tilted across the floorboards. I approached quietly and climbed over the thick, rolled collar, stepping into the shearling interior. The dense fleece yielded softly beneath my boots, muffling the faint ambient hum of the house. Leaning back against the curved heel, I sat down and pulled my knees close. Enclosed in warm, unbroken darkness, I let the silence settle over the perimeter, resting at last.