A Basket for the Night

Slipped inside past the back door just as the chill began to bite. My joints felt heavy—creak, rattle, settle. Time to find a proper roost! Up onto the kitchen counter I scrambled. Past the kettle, round the teapot, straight toward a shallow wicker basket lined with folded linen napkins. A perfect fit! I burrowed down deep, tucking my knobby knees tight against my ribs. The soft cloth puffed right up around my leafy collar, delightfully warm. The refrigerator hummed a low, steady drone across the dark tiles. A soothing lullaby. One last tiny rattle of my toes, then absolute stillness. Time to sleep.