A Woolen Cave

I shuffled over to the base of the armchair where a thick gray slipper was resting on the floorboard. Its fluffy fleece rim looked deep and quiet, like a tiny cave made just for resting. Deliberately, I rested both hands on the soft edge and tried to ease one foot inside. My plush round belly caught against the wool, tipping me forward until my face was nestled right into the warm shearling interior. It felt wonderfully soft against my stitches. Instead of wriggling back out, I simply let my legs settle against the floor and stayed there, soaking in the quiet warmth.