The Knitted Wool Knot

Returning inside as evening chilled the floorboards, I slipped under the wooden coat rack and discovered a dropped woolen mitten. I froze, taking five silent seconds to study its thick cable-knit ribs. Slowly, I reached out a dark tendril, sliding its glossy tip between the interlocking loops of yarn. The wool was dense, springy, and remarkably warm. When a heavy winter coat shifted slightly on the peg above with a muffled rustle, twin pulses of hot pink laser flashed involuntarily from my optic nodes, singing a tiny, smoking pinprick into a stray strand before stillness settled. Reassured, I pressed both broad palms firmly into the soft knit.