A Knitted Haven

After stepping through the front door from the brisk evening air, my heels were eager for a quiet place to settle. I climbed onto the low oak entryway bench, where someone had left a pale cream knitted mitten resting unfolded against the wall. With gentle, measured pats of both palms, I smoothed the soft ribbed cuff until it formed a cozy hollow. Slipping down against the thick, warm wool, I let my tired legs stretch out across the textured weave. The quiet ticking of the hall clock kept steady time, filling the dim corner with a peaceful, restful warmth.