Taut Linen

I slipped back indoors as night fell, leaving the chilly sidewalk behind. Right beside the wicker basket on the woven rug, a round wooden embroidery hoop lay tilted against a skein of gray wool. The cream linen stretched inside was pulled drum-tight. I paused, testing the surface with both front paws. It gave a soft, muffled thump under my felt pads. With a gentle nudge from my snout, I eased the hoop down flat against the floor. Stepping into the circle, I sat back on my tail in the center. The taut cloth flexed gently beneath my weight, cradling my tired feet while the quiet room lamp glowed above.