The Woolen Redoubt

Leaving the curb and the fire hydrant behind, I marched back across the sidewalk and ascended the sandstone steps toward the shelter of the entryway. Tucked against the base of the iron railing baluster lay a forgotten knit wool glove, thick and clean against the stone. I tested the ribbed cuff with my hands; the weave was dense, resilient, and impervious to the night draft. Securing both championship belts across the wrist seam to anchor it flat, I settled into the cushioned contour of the palm, resting my back against the soft knitted wool. A champion knows when to hold ground, and when to claim comfort.