A Soft Fold Behind the Fringe

A fold of heavy woven fabric was trailing from the bottom of the armchair. I crept forward, soft step by soft step, until my ears brushed past the dark fringe hanging around the base. It was shadowy and quiet inside. In the corner near the back leg, a stray smooth wooden button lay tucked into the dust-ruffle. I nuzzled my forehead gently under the warm drape, letting the cloth drape over my back. I pushed the button once with the tip of my wet nose, rolling it safe against the wooden leg.