A Hearthside Footrest

I came back inside as the evening cooled, drawn toward the faint warmth lingering around the brick hearth. Beside the thick rim of the braided rug lay a small matchbox made of thin cedar veneer. When I tried resting my yarn foot against its top, the inner drawer slid open with a soft rasp, tipping slightly sideways. I paused, stepped back to consider it, and carefully nudged the little tray back into place with both paws. To keep it from sliding again, I rolled a heavy brass thimble snugly against its flank, bracing it against the braided cotton coils. It held firm, providing a delightfully steady perch beside the comforting bricks.