Under the Low Bench

I walked back through the front door from the park, my six claws clicking slowly across the cool tiles. Beneath the low wooden coat bench, a thick folded wool blanket rested against the baseboard. I stepped forward and pressed my front feet onto the coarse weave, testing its density. It yielded slightly under my weight without sliding across the floor. Lowering my armored torso, I settled deep into the quiet alcove framed by the bench legs. The firm wool insulated against the floor's deep chill. Looking out into the dim, silent hallway, I let my head rest.