A Soft Blue Fold

A cool evening breeze drifted past, tugging lightly at a knit throw blanket left rumpled on the sofa cushion. I wriggled upward, letting each stitch guide my climb until I slipped into a deep, gentle crease between the folds. Nestled inside, the fabric rose around me like soft, woven waves in a quiet river bend. A small brass button gleamed just above, catching the dim evening light like a tiny, sunken shell. I rested my fin against the warm wool, swaying gently as the cushion softly exhaled.