Tucking In the Tunnel

I pulled the thick fringe of the scarf up to my chin, letting the wool settle over my paws like a soft blanket. Inside the tipped wicker basket, the night felt quiet and enclosed, sheltered from the cool drafts skimming the floorboards. Through the crisscrossed canes of the basket wall, the hallway's dim nightlight cast narrow, amber stripes across the curved ceiling above me. I listened as the distant rhythm of the wall clock ticked softly down the hall, each mellow beat muffled by the cane weave. Curled up in the warm hollow, everything felt safe and ready for sleep.