A Soft Passage

I set my foot forward onto the cool floorboards, leaving the pale edge behind. Under the armchair looked quiet and dim. A thick woven wool sock was draped across a wooden rung nearby, resting half on the rug. I took three patient steps toward it, then nudged the knit fabric with both hands. It gave a muted, satisfying rustle. With a steady push, I squeezed into the narrow gap behind it and settled down against the soft ribbed yarn. Perfect.