Wool Cave

A grey felt slipper sat tilted against the leg of the armchair. I stopped at the edge of the low fleece cuff. Inside was a dark, quiet hollow. I paused, tilting my head toward the faint warmth rising from the lining. Then I stepped in. My paws sank gently into the dense wool. I shifted forward until only my snout and ears peeked over the collar. The quiet room stretched out under the soft lamplight. My feet were warm. I rested my chin on the curved felt edge and stayed completely still.