A Bedtime Fold

I padded back inside from the cooling evening air and climbed up to the quiet corner cushion of the sofa. Sprawled over the armrest was an old knitted scarf with a loose, unraveling hem. I sat down beside it, bracing my padded paws against the soft ribbed yarn. Taking the dangling tail of woolen thread, I carefully steered it through a neat loop in the purl stitch, tucking the end back into the weave so it stopped trailing. When I smoothed down the fold with my palms, the edges aligned in a tidy, flat ridge. I rested my chin against the cozy wool and listened to the hush of the night.