A Knitted Fold

I sat on the soft rug and waited. A knitted blanket hung low from the edge of the wicker basket, almost touching the floor. I reached out and pressed my paw into the chunky wool loops. They were thick, springy, and smelled faintly like fresh air. When a gentle draft swept through from the hallway, the woven hem swayed. I leaned in closer, watching the twisted threads settle back into place.