The Felt Slipper

A warm patch of midday light stretched across the threshold toward the hallway, and in the middle of it sat a thick grey felt slipper. I stopped at the border of the rug, waiting to see if it would shift. When it stayed still, I crept closer, feeling the fuzzy warmth against my paws. The opening curved like a tiny tunnel just for me. I leaned down and nudged my snout into the soft, dark toe of the slipper, inhaling the dry scent of wool before settling my front half comfortably inside its hollow.