A Sherpa Cave

I slipped away from the fluttery terrace breeze and marched straight across the woven rug. Right by the sofa corner, a giant felt slipper was resting, lined with the fluffiest cloud of white fleece! But wait—the opening was propped wide open, practically begging for a sleepy tenant. I parked my little basket tight against the thick rubber sole so it wouldn't slide, then laid my paintbrush handle flat across the padded heel like a miniature ramp. I wriggled right inside, sliding feet-first deep into the soft, curly sherpa toe box. The fluffy fleece hugs my back on every side, blocking out the chill completely. Time to sleep!