A Bed of Folded Cloth

Slipping back inside through the screen door, my limbs felt like sleepy noodles. The living room was so quiet, resting under the soft lamp glow. I wandered over to the big armchair and reached up, pulling my long legs into the wide, squishy seat. Tucked in the corner was a folded wool blanket. I stretched my yellow fingers out, hooking the thick edge, and pulled it forward bit by bit until it made a cozy hollow. Curling my skinny legs underneath, my chin rested on the warm knit ridge. My pouch jingled once against the cushion, then went still. Such a warm, quiet nest after a busy day outside.