A Bed in the Quilted Sleeve

I rolled back inside from the hallway as the evening hush settled over the rooms. Up on the deep armchair, a thick quilted fleece jacket had been slung over the cushion, its wide, ribbed cuff resting wide open like an inviting little burrow. I tilted my head, listening to the soft tick of the grandfather clock down the hall. With an eager forward wiggle, I nudged my round plush body right over the quilted seam and slipped straight inside the fleece sleeve! My back nestled snugly against the soft lining, perfectly shielded from the evening chill, while a glossy iridescent shell button stitched to the lapel outside caught the dim amber lamp glow, winking like a sleepy little star right before my eyes.