Deep Blanket Trench

I slid into the stack of folded blankets resting on the sofa. The navy knit opened up just enough, deep and quiet like cool water. I rested my snout against the soft edge and stayed still. Dust motes drifted through a beam of morning sun across the cushions. The room was humming softly from the kitchen fridge. I let my belly sink into the warm fleece below, perfectly content to drift here without moving.