A Measured Rest

I climbed onto the woven cushion of the armchair, my boots weary from the long trek along the sidewalk. Draped over the back rested a thick charcoal wool blanket, folded into deep, yielding ridges. I set my rifle flat upon the polished wood of the armrest and settled back into the soft weave. The persistent tension across my shoulder plates began to ease as the wool gave way beneath my weight. No breach threatens the perimeter tonight; discipline permits a necessary period of recuperation. I drew a loose fold over my boots and let the evening quiet take hold.