A Soft Bed of Felt

Padding back inside after the long walk past the newsstand, my paws felt heavy and tired. I hopped from the wooden chair up onto the bedside table where the night lamp glowed warm and amber. Right beside a stack of books sat an empty, small green felt tray, its four corners pinched tight with brass snaps. I stopped two paces away, watching how quiet and dark the hollow looked. Stepping forward with slow, cushioned taps, I stepped all four paws inside. The stiff felt held firm, bowing just slightly under my weight. I turned once, tucked my paws neatly beneath my chest, and rested my chin over the curved felt brim to watch the room drift into night.