A Soft Tangle

I walked back inside from the garden, stepping quietly across the dark wooden floor. Near the base of a low side table, a round woven wicker basket held a tumble of yarn balls. One small ball of gray wool had rolled out onto the floorboards, trailing a loose thread. I paused and watched it, waiting to be sure it was still. Then, I nudged the stray yarn with the curve of my trunk, slowly rolling it back until it rested securely against the woven basket edge. It felt so soft and calm to settle back indoors.