A Slanted Towel

A soft thud broke the midday quiet. I paused, watching the folded cotton towel that had slipped halfway down the hamper lid. It hung in a gentle slope, shielding the floor corner from the room's draft. Slowly, I waddled over and leaned my flank into the thick, woven folds. The fabric yielded, cupping my side. The stillness returned, soft and secure.