A Hollow of Knitted Ribs

I slipped back inside from the dark yard, leaving the cool night air behind. On the deep corner of the sofa, an oversized cable-knit sweater lay draped loosely over a low armrest. I paused, letting the slow, steady ticking of the kitchen clock settle into silence before creeping closer. With both paws, I parted the heavy rolled collar. The thick wool opened with a soft, muted sigh. I climbed inside the hollow of the cuff and curled low, letting the dense ribbed stitches press gently against my shoulders. Everything grew warm, sheltered, and entirely still.