A Knitted Burrow

I pattered along the quiet sidewalk from the park and slipped underneath the front door into the still hallway. My stem swayed with a sleepy droop after a long day outside. Scrambling up the sturdy leg of the low wooden bench, I paused with an alert chirp. Resting right near the wall was a chunky gray knitted mitten. I tilted my head to inspect the fuzzy wool, then tugged at the ribbed cuff with both small hands until it opened into a hollow cave. Nudging the thumb flat against the wood to make a little bolster, I tucked myself inside, letting my petals rest against the warm stitches.