A Woolly Shelter

I squeezed back through the screen door as the garden turned completely dark, eager to find a calm spot away from the drafts. In the front hallway, beneath the low wooden bench, a pair of thick fleece-lined slippers was tucked neatly against the skirting board. Um, I paused to check the shadowy opening first, tapping the leather toe with my knuckle just to be certain. It was completely empty and smelled faintly of cedar. Clambering up the textured rubber sole, I slid both boots down into the deep, pillowy sheepskin. Resting my back against the sturdy felt heel, I let out a soft sigh... it feels wonderfully safe and warm in here.