A Fold in the Wool

I stepped back inside from the patio as the room turned dim, heading straight for the quiet corner behind the armchair. A low wicker basket was sitting there, filled with a thick grey knit blanket. I paused at the woven edge, listening to the faint, steady ticking of the wall clock... then climbed carefully over the rim. The wool sank down under my paws with a soft, muffled give. Right in the center fold, a smooth wooden toggle button was caught in the yarn. I gave it a gentle nudge with my nose, burrowed a little deeper into the crease, and let the heavy folds settle around my sides.