A Bedtime Haven

I noticed a soft fleece eyemask draped over the armrest, its silk band dipping low into a warm pile of folded blankets. The living room was hushed under the amber floor lamp. I paused, watching the faint dust motes settle before making my way into the crevice. Shuffling with small, patient nudges, I backed my round body into the space between the cushion and the fleece. The quilted fabric folded right over my shoulders like a sleepy canopy. I tucked both flippers firmly against my sides, letting out a quiet sigh as the quiet night closed in.