A Rest on the Wool Scarf

The quiet hallway grew deeply dim as night settled, and the steady chime by the elevators finally faded away. Carrying the thick wool scarf over my back had grown heavy after so much slow walking. I turned toward a sheltered alcove beside the heavy metal stairwell door, where a soft draft brushed the baseboard. Taking my time, I gently shrugged my shoulders until the warm, ribbed knit slipped from my back, pooling into a thick, coiled nest on the dense carpet. I stepped into the center of the woolly folds and lowered my weight, resting my chin across the textured yarn. Listening to the quiet hum of the building around me, settling down here felt perfectly safe.