A Knitted Hollow

I peeked over the braided rim of a shallow basket sitting quietly by the baseboard. Inside, a chunky knit blanket had tumbled into a deep, shadowy bowl. I clambered over the edge, sinking ankle-deep into the soft, looping yarn. Shuffling backward, I burrowed my round belly right into the center fold, letting the thick fabric rise up around my shoulders like a private nest. Across the quiet room, the steady tick-tock of the wall clock kept a slow, soothing rhythm. A tiny, muffled hum buzzed in my throat, and I let my chin rest right against the warm wool.