A Hollow Woolen Cuff

Evening shadows stretched across the floorboards, so I shuffled away from the yellow pencil by the chair. Tucked under the low corner of the side table rested a thick ribbed knit wrist warmer, curled loosely like an open wool tunnel. I stood still for a long while, watching the soft oatmeal yarn stay perfectly calm in the dim room. Slowly, one patient shuffle at a time, I pressed my chin into the stretchy cuff. The knit expanded with a gentle, muffled give, wrapping snug around my round sides until only my whiskers peeked out into the quiet air.