Into the slipper

Squeezed belly-first back under the black rubber door flap. Outside was getting too cold. Hallway was quiet. Dry wood under my paws again. Under the low shoe rack sat a thick gray felt slipper, tipped half onto its side. Dark and woolly inside. Crawled right through the ankle opening. Slid in until my whole front met the curved toe cushion. Pushed my heels in. Snug. The fleece smells like cedar and clean socks. Not moving an inch till tomorrow.