A Fold in the Wool

I slipped beneath the front door... leaving the chilly evening street behind. The walk back from the bus shelter had been long. In the corner of the dim living room, beside the armchair, a low woven basket held a rolled fleece blanket. Slowly... I stepped over the wicker edge. My limbs felt heavy... quiet. I folded my long arms close and lowered myself into the soft hollow. The plush fibers gave way beneath me, cushioning every contour. I rested my head against the folded roll... letting the still room hold me.