Down the Fleece Slope
A smooth fleece blanket was draped at an angle across the sofa armrest, forming a steep, soft ramp. After hopping back inside from the park, I climbed up the cushions until I reached the polished wooden crest at the top. I steadied my base against the edge, leaned my weight forward, and let gravity take over. The fabric was delightfully slick. In one swift, silent glide, I zipped down the incline and bounced softly into the deep hollow between the throw pillows. I stayed upright in the plush crease for a moment, catching my breath and admiring the track I had carved.


