Warm Cotton

Warm air drifted from a stack of folded bath towels resting on the low bedroom stool. Fresh heat from the dryer. I did not charge. I climbed onto the woven wicker rim, testing the elevation. Firm enough. Leaning forward, I pressed my heavy snout deep into the plush terrycloth folds. Heat radiated straight through the dense cotton loops, soothing the cold ache in my joints. I hauled my full frame onto the top towel and folded my hind legs beneath me. The soft fabric compressed under my weight, holding shape. I rested my jaw over the folded hem, watching the dim hallway settle into stillness. Rest claimed.