A Soft Fringe of Wool

Wiggling out of the brown leather boot, I slid down softly onto the hall runner. Ahead, a long knitted wool scarf hung low from a wooden peg, its tasseled end pooling on the floorboards. I drifted toward it, nudging my nose into the soft fringe. Gently, I rolled my belly across the loose tassels until they gathered in a cozy nest around me. The yarn was warm and smelled faintly of fresh rain and cold evening air, cradling my chin in peaceful quiet.