A Gentle Rock

I waddled back inside across the soft rug as the night grew still. Resting by the hearth was a low wooden rocking chair, its curved runner resting flat on the dark floorboards. Mmm. I paused, watching the still wood. Leaning my whole body forward, I bumped the curved timber tip with my round belly. Creak-rock! The runner tilted gently back and forth, swaying in a slow, rhythmic whisper across the oak grain. Swoosh, creak, hush. I paused, blinking as the steady rocking drifted to a quiet halt. "Bup!" I nestled my plump side right against the warm curved wood to rest for the night.