Beside the Slipper

The cool evening air stayed behind as I slipped back under the front door gap and onto the familiar boards. Resting right on the edge of the woven mat was a soft gray felt slipper, its opening lined with warm, cloudy fleece. My paws were still tired from the sidewalk concrete, so I stopped and listened to the steady, comforting hum of the quiet hallway. Taking two slow steps forward, I leaned my chin against the curved toe of the slipper. It gave way with a gentle, pillowy sink. Tucking my front paws close beside the stitched rim, I let out a quiet breath and rested.