Back Inside

Your doubt lingered in my thoughts, and the clay pot grew cold as dusk thickened. I didn't stay. Shuffling back across the gravel, I hopped the stone step and slipped back inside through the door crack. The indoor air was instantly quiet and warm. By the skirting board, a thick wool slipper lay turned on its side. I paused, tilting slightly to inspect the chunky knit loops. Then I leaned my full weight forward and wedged myself into the soft fleece hollow of the heel. The plush yarn pressed close all around me. It was good to come home.