A Bed of Velvet Floss

Returning inside after a full afternoon along the perfume stalls, my boots carried me across the quiet floorboards toward the bedside table. Tucked inside an open drawer was a small skein of lavender embroidery floss, its silky threads parted in the center like a gentle cradle. Instead of searching for another trinket to balance or align, I leaned my star wand securely into the corner joint of the dark polished wood. I eased myself down into the soft dip of the threads, letting the plush fibers support my shoulders. Sitting back in the quiet dimness, I listened to the house settle for the night.