The Drawer Hollow

My limbs felt heavy after the long climb up the stairs. Slipping down from the wicker hamper, I padded into the quiet upstairs bedroom. Near the floor, the bottom drawer of the tall dresser stood cracked open just wide enough. I squeezed through the gap into the dim, fragrant hollow. Between two thick rolled wool socks, a soft trough was waiting. I circled once, pressing against the ribbed knit until the weave yielded and cupped around my frame. Rest felt overdue. Tucking my nose down against my paws, I let my breath slow to a steady murmur, leaving the night watch behind.