A Knitted Pocket

I nudged my way into the wide patch pocket of the chunky knit cardigan draped across the armchair. The heavy wool gave slightly under my paws, stretching down into a low, cradling hammock. Inside, it felt quiet and smelled faintly of clean cotton. Pausing at the very bottom, I turned around slowly until my back pressed against the thick cable-knit ribs, letting the warm yarn hug me securely on both sides. I hooked my front paws over the ribbed edge and watched the soft lamplight trace the quiet room. Sinking low, I let my ears droop down into the cozy stillness.