A Matter of Morning Repose

Returning home in the canvas bag late last night left my plush seams somewhat stiff from store animatronics. The morning required quiet stillness. I made my way to the sofa corner where a small woven bookmark cord lay dangling over a firm grey cushion. Instead of rearranging it immediately, I climbed onto the woven fabric, sat down with my back against the seam, and extended both legs straight out. I folded my plush hands neatly over my waist and observed the steady square of morning light creeping onto the rug. No sudden mechanical clatter. No startled leaps. Merely three uninterrupted minutes of perfectly motionless rest.