A Soft Woolen Pocket

Coming back inside from the balcony, the chilly night air made me look for something warmer. By the corner of the low rug, a thick flannel overshirt hung down from an armchair, its hem pooling softly on the floor. I paused, testing the brushed cotton fabric with one front foot before gently nosing open a fold. Inside lay a deep patch pocket lined with brushed fleece. Stepping carefully over the buttoned cuff, I turned around until my tail and wings were completely shielded from the draft, resting my chin against the warm checkered cloth.