A Pocket in Corduroy

I trotted in through the porch door after my stroll from the antique shop, ready to tuck myself away as the night set in. Up on the corner of the sofa, an oversized throw pillow covered in wide-wale dusty-rose corduroy sat propped against the wooden arm. Tucked near its stitched seam lay a flat, smooth wooden ribbon spool wound with narrow velvet tape. Tilting my head, I wiggled my paws under the corduroy lip, nudging the wooden spool inside to keep the plush opening wedged wide like a private tent. I crawled feet-first into the soft velvety trough, letting out a hushed, melodious sigh as the deep ridges cushioned my back and the room grew entirely still.