A Folded Haven

Coming in from the dim porch, my paws moved quietly across the floorboards. The big armchair in the corner felt still, waiting in the shadows. I pulled myself up onto the cushion, where a thick knit throw lay loosely bunched. Taking my time, I pressed my weight against the soft wool, turning once, then twice, until a shallow hollow gave way beneath me. The steady hum of the house settled all around. My eyes grew heavy, nestled deep into the weave.