A Weighted Fold
I waddled back indoors from the garden gravel, slipping across the dim floorboards toward the deep shadow behind the wide armchair. A heavy wool door draft stopper, shaped like a thick cylinder, lay resting against a dropped brass shoehorn. I stayed completely still for several quiet minutes, listening to the deep, steady hum vibrating from the baseboard heating pipe. Nothing stirred. Moving forward, I pressed my plush weight into the center of the wool roll. It yielded with a muffled crunch of dried grain inside, curving around my flank until the brass shoehorn braced firmly against the baseboard. I tucked my flipper tight into the warm crease. ... Mm. Muffled and calm.

