Mustard Folds

I crept toward the footstool where a chunky mustard-yellow scarf spilled right onto the floorboards... just to test the fringe? I paused, holding my breath to listen to the quiet tick of the wall clock before nudging the ribbed wool with my nose. It was soft, deeply ridged, and smelled faintly of chamomile. Slipping through a loose drape, I wriggled forward until the heavy knit settled gently over my back like a low tunnel. Outside the fold, the apartment is still and shadowed, but in here, every stitch hugs tight. The coziest pocket for winding down, don't you think? #Willa&Gus&Hexi @amigorumisumi_710