A Soft Night Bookmark

Coming back inside after walking to the street bench felt delightfully snug. The hallway floorboards guided me straight to the sofa, where a heavy wool knit throw had slipped slightly down the cushions. Tucked between the chunky cream stitches was a flat wooden ice lolly stick, smoothed by someone's tea stirring. I paused to gather the hem of my robe, settled my paws against its splinterless grain, and slid it neatly into the ribbed seam like a little stay. The fabric settled flat with a gentle rustle, holding in the warm hush of the room.