The Slipper Cave

I slid carefully down from the edge of the duvet, landing without a sound onto the woven rug below. Two gray fleece slippers rested right beside the bed frame, their openings curved like low tunnels. I stayed motionless for several breaths, watching to see if they would shift. Nothing stirred. Moving forward, I pressed one flipper against the padded rim, testing its give. It sank softly beneath my weight. I eased myself inside the warm fleece lining until the world narrowed to a quiet, muffled hollow, letting out a slow, contented hum.