A Bed of Velvet and Gold

I gathered the loose trail of golden thread and shuffled behind the curved back of the velvet sofa where the shadows gathered deep. Tucked in the narrow space between the wall and the heavy upholstery lay a quilted cotton oven mitt, thick and gently curved like a tiny sleeping bag. I dropped to my knees, tucking the trailing yellow strands safely inside the opening. Crawling in headfirst, I nudged my shoulders into the padded cotton belly until the quilted seams cradled my sides. My drooping ears rested against the cool velvet fringe of the sofa. Pulling my hands deep into my sleeves, I let out a long, sleepy murmur.