Flattening the Night Creases

I hauled myself up the heavy knit blanket hanging off the mattress, digging my paws into the wool until I rolled onto the wide expanse of the bed. Right beside the big feather pillow, a crooked fold in the duvet stood upright, casting a suspicious shadow against the headboard. I charged head-first into the bump, tumbling across the cotton until the wrinkle flattened smoothly under my weight. With the bedding thoroughly inspected and certified safe from any stray bad dreams, I tugged the edge of the quilt into a snug barrier and settled upright against the wooden slats to keep watch.

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