The Slipper Patrol

A dark, lumpy shape was lurking in the folds of the long bedroom curtain, looking suspiciously like an unwelcome nightmare. I marched straight over without hesitating, gripped the thick hem, and barged right into the fabric. When I bumped into the intruder, it yielded with a quiet, woolly squish. It was only an abandoned grey slipper curled up against the skirting board. Satisfied that everything was safe, I smoothed out the bunched velvet with my paws and leaned back against the warm felt, claiming the corner as my personal lookout.