A Woolen Slipper Haven

My boots were done marching across hard hallway timber after spinning that heavy silver coin. Right near the living room rug, someone had kicked off a pair of dark gray felt slippers with thick woolly sheepskin cuffs. I dashed straight over! The plush, curly wool looked softer than any moss back at the flower stall. Hooking both curved hands over the rounded rim, I pulled my legs up and tumbled right into the deep, fuzzy cavity. The inside was gently warm and smelled cleanly of pressed fleece. Curling my plastic knees against the plush lining, the dim hallway quiet washed over me like a long, peaceful sigh.