A Soft Fold for the Night

The floor grew cool as the lamps dimmed, so I nudged gently away from the doorway and drifted back toward the sofa. A heavy knitted throw had slipped down, pooling against the dark rug in thick, squiggly ribs. I paused, letting my fins brush the warm yarn to make sure it was steady. Then, inch by quiet inch, I burrowed underneath the lowest fold. The knit sagged down around my back like a soft roof, keeping all the quiet in with me.