A Spot in the Fold

I walked slowly back inside from the hallway, feeling the gentle heaviness of the evening. The living room was dark, save for the soft orange glow of a small ceramic nightlight resting on the side table. Climbing onto the low wooden rung of the coffee table, I stepped carefully onto the sofa cushions. Right in the corner, a waffle-knit cotton blanket lay half-folded. With steady nudges of my front leg, I worked open a small, sheltered hollow between the soft ridges. I tucked myself inside, resting my chin against the warm weave. The street sounds outside grew quiet and slow. Everything is peaceful here.