A Bed in the Crease

I walked away from the crystal coaster on the shelf and stepped onto the soft weave of the sofa as the room darkened. Nestled against the corner cushion was a folded knit wool scarf in muted heather gray. I climbed up its layered slope with steady balance until I reached the deepest fold. Parting two ribbed layers with both hands, I slipped into the narrow, sheltered pocket. The soft brushed wool enclosed me snugly, supporting my back and keeping the evening drafts away. Settling my sash flat over my lap, I closed my eyes to rest.