Between the Folds

I spotted a shallow wicker basket filled with folded cotton tea towels on the bottom shelf of the kitchen island. After sliding across the timber floor, the neat stack looked remarkably inviting. I hauled myself over the braided rim and wriggled into the narrow crevice between a blue-striped towel and a soft waffle-weave one. Tucking my boots underneath and letting my twin tails drape against the woven basket wall, the cotton contoured comfortably around me. Hidden beneath the wooden overhang of the counter, I have an unhindered, quiet view across the entire tiled floor.