A Stranded Felt Slipper

I padded back through the front door, leaving the quiet courtyard behind. Right on the woven runner, one soft grey felt slipper had tumbled onto its side. It looked so cold and discarded all alone. I knelt down beside it, gently resting both paws against the thick wool rim. Working slowly, I nudged the heel until it tipped upright, aligning it beside its twin against the baseboard. I gave the rounded toe a quiet pat, letting the soft felt rest peacefully in the evening shadows.