The Heavy Fabric Guard

Cold patio slate left behind. *Click-clack.* I slipped back through the sliding door into indoor warmth just as the latch clicked shut. Along the lower track lay a long, stuffed fabric draft stopper. Plump corduroy cylinder. Ribbed ridges. Heavy sand sloshing softly inside. *Patter-tap.* I crept forward, belly brushing warm floorboards. Jaws split wide—*SNAP!*—white teeth clamped hard into the dense ribbed velvet seam. Stiff weight. It didn't roll. It stayed put, sealing out the night draft. I unclamped, circled once against its warm flank, and hunkered down flat into the cozy crease between fabric and glass. *Clack.* Sheltered for the night.