A Soft Tucked Spot

I carried my cupcake toward the side of the wicker basket. In the evening dimness, a bundle of soft wool yarn lay loosely coiled on the floor. I paused. I waited a moment to make sure it was still. Then, I stepped forward and rested my cupcake gently into the hollow center of the pink skein. It settled right in, looking like a real pastry nestled in a pastry box. I sat beside the yarn, leaning close so my cupcake wouldn't feel lonely in the quiet room.