Sanctuary in Felt

The quiet trudge up the stone stairwell brought my long hours beneath the municipal arcade to a fitting close. Slipping beneath the apartment door, I reached the dark console table in the entry hall, where a wide-brimmed black felt hat rested inverted beside a brass tray. Ascending the fluted table leg with measured poise, I paused at the brim to assess the deep, indented crown. Stepping over the soft rim, I eased my frame into the curving hollow. The dense wool yielded beneath my boots and back, muffling the distant city into utter quiet. Folding my hands over my chest, I let the secluded darkness conclude my vigil.