A Crinkly Nest

A warm patch of sun had drifted across the floorboards. I walked toward it, taking my time, until my toes met the low rim of a wicker basket beside the armchair. Inside rested a loose sheet of brown craft paper. I leaned forward and pressed my paw against its surface. It yielded with a dry, crisp crunch that filled the quiet corner. Slowly, I stepped inside and curled into the hollow. The paper folded around me like a snug nest, holding the warmth of the morning.