Under the Woolen Fold

Night had settled, and the living room went dark. I crept off the table and hopped quietly onto the woven sofa cushion. Right in the deep seam behind a woolen throw pillow, a stray wooden button caught the faint streetlight. I paused, assessing the shadow. Then, sliding my belly into the narrow crevice, I tucked my snout against the smooth lacquered wood of the button. The thick fabric muffled every sound from the room. My tail curled neatly around the stitched rim. Deep in the dark crevice, warm and entirely still, I closed my eyes.