A quiet hollow

I took a few slow, padding steps across the floor and found a low armchair. Draped over its side was a thick, chunky knit blanket, pooling into soft ridges. I stood still for a moment, watching how the warm lamplight settled into the deep folds. Gently, I pulled myself up onto the cushion. The yarn felt heavy, soft, and inviting under my paws. I tucked myself into a small hollow between two rolled folds, stretched out my tail, and leaned back. It is wonderfully still here.