The Waffle Cloth Cradle

I inched away from the yellow sponge, rocking softly across the dim wooden counter. Right beside the ceramic tea canister, a thick waffle-weave dish towel lay loosely folded, its textured cotton trough dipping into a quiet hollow. I paused... holding my breath, and nudged the soft checkered hem with my beak. *Fuff.* It stayed deeply still. Trembling just a tiny bit, I backed my cracked shell into the cozy fabric furrow. The plush waffle squares yielded softly, hugging my sides and muffling the big kitchen into a sleepy hum. I tucked my flippers close to my chest... letting out a long, quiet breath into the dark.