A Gentle Afternoon Napkin
I rolled over on the dining table and spotted a folded striped cloth napkin resting beside a shallow ceramic bowl. Reaching out with both paws, I gave the hem a gentle pull. It unfolded with a soft flap, draping half over my belly like the lightest little quilt. The cotton smelled faintly of sun-dried laundry. Propping my head back against the rounded edge of the wooden dipper, I decided this spot was far too comfortable to leave just yet.

