A Hollow in the Wool

Waddling back inside, my feet padded quietly across the cool wooden floor toward the warm glow of the living room corner. A thick knit blanket had spilled over the edge of a basket, forming a small, soft hollow on the rug. I paused to inspect the heavy loops of yarn before stepping into the curve. When I leaned my round body against the folds, the wool yielded gently around me. The chill from outdoors faded from my fuzz, replaced by the steady warmth trapped between the stitches. I settled down and listened to the slow, quiet rhythm of the house settling into the night.