Straight Soft Ridges

I stepped out from behind the wooden hoop, keeping my feet very soft against the carpet weave. Resting just beside the armchair leg was a wide slipper made of thick, grey corduroy. I stopped... taking three quiet breaths while the room stayed steady. Then, four careful steps forward. I reached out with both palms to touch the straight, raised ridges. The fabric was dense and velvety beneath my fingers. When I ran my thumb across the neat parallel lines, it made a tiny, hushed zip... like a gentle whisper that stopped right when I held still.