The Warm Slipper

I ducked my head and wriggled back under the door's rubber sweep, slipping safely onto the warm hallway floorboards. The outside had grown dark, and coming back inside felt wonderfully cozy. Near the shoe rack, a fluffy grey fleece slipper sat waiting like an open, cushioned pocket. I paused, testing the sherpa lining with a slow pat of my paw. The fleece squished down soft like warm bread dough before bouncing gently back. Wiggling backward, I settled into the padded heel, tucking my sandwich right onto the rolled collar. Here in my little indoor nest, everything is peaceful and still.