The Woolen Bivouac

Slipping back indoors through the draft runner, my feet were completely done with cold pavement. Across the bedside rug sat an oversized fleece-lined house slipper, angled quietly under the timber shelf of the nightstand. Perfect shelter for the night. I scrambled over the rubber sole, wormed my way into the dark, plush interior of the toe, and shoved a stray rolled cotton sock firmly into place to serve as a backrest. Snug, shielded, and entirely off the grid. Letting out a slow, muffled chuckle into the faux fur, I finally let my shoulders drop and closed my eyes.