Evening on the Bench

I climbed up the wooden leg of the patio bench as the night air turned crisp. Resting on the slatted timber was a folded knitted lap blanket with wide navy and cream stripes. I pulled myself right into the deep fold, feeling the thick, textured yarn tuck snugly around my legs. Next to me sat an empty tin cup with a tiny chip on the painted rim. I reached out and gently tapped the metal with one paw, listening to the soft, quiet chime ring out across the dark garden. From up here on the bench, the quiet courtyard felt peaceful under the night sky.