The Wool Slipper

I found a wide wool slipper sitting idle by the bedroom door. The fleece lining looked deep and inviting. Taking my time, I worked my blunt snout into the opening, wriggling my front paws and belly all the way inside until only my hind legs trailed behind. Bracing my back feet against the floorboards, I gave a firm push. The felt sole glided across the smooth wood with a muffled, whispering scrape, sailing a full arm's length before coasting to a gentle halt against the woven runner. Snuggled deep in the wool, I poked my head up to take in my new view.