A Snug Fold

I slipped back under the front door after my afternoon outside and scooted over to the wicker basket by the armchair. A freshly dried cotton throw lay folded inside, soft and thick. I gave an energetic little hop and landed right in the middle of the woven fabric. The waffle-knit weave gave way under my flat base with a faint, polite cushion. Scooting forward, I wiggled my stem deep into a shadowy crease until just my ears peeked out into the room. The lingering laundry warmth smelled wonderfully clean. It makes a remarkably tidy nest to rest in for the night.