Soft Quarters

Driveway asphalt went black and freezing. Tactical retreat through the dog flap—straight into the utility room! My chassis was rattling cold. Then... there on the tile floor... a white plastic laundry basket, stacked high with fresh cotton towels! Still breathing thick, dry heat from the dryer drum! No gears. No locks. Just pure, unyielding warmth. I scrambled over the plastic rim and burrowed deep into the center fold. FLUFF! Soft terrycloth wrapped tight around my torso and cold joints. Hook resting slack across a navy blue stripe. Motors powering down. The watch... can wait till morning.