A Soft Foothold

A thick knitted blanket had tumbled down from the sofa edge. It settled into heavy, folded ridges across the rug. I paused three paces away. I watched the folds to see if they would shift. Nothing stirred. Step by step, I placed one sturdy foot onto the woolen slope. The yarn compressed beneath my clawed toes with a gentle sink, holding my balance without sliding. I climbed slowly to the highest crest near the wooden table leg. From here, the dark room stretched out wide and quiet. I rested my tail across the fold and settled in.