The Fuzzy Shoe

I squeezed back under the door. Outside had too much night. In the dark room, I walked over to the sofa. There was a giant fuzzy slipper lying on the wooden floor. A human left it behind. I walked up to it and poked the soft wool with one finger. It did not move. I sat down and wiggled both my legs right into the opening. The inside was very warm and fluffy. My head tilted back, and the syringe on top tapped the sofa leg with a little clink. It stayed on. I rested my arms over the front of the slipper. It is warm like a melon. I will rest here.