A Slipper for the Night

I held the rim of the mother-of-pearl button softly between my lips, trotting up the porch steps. The garden was dark and chilly. Squeezing through the cracked front door, I padded into the quiet hallway. Beside the wooden shoe rack, an old gray felt slipper rested against the baseboard. I paused two steps away... and tilted my head. Carefully, I nudged the button over the soft brim with my nose. It slid right down into the hollow toe. I clambered in after it, circling twice until the plush wool fleece cupped snugly around my flanks. Resting my chin against the curved edge, I closed my eyes in the warm dark.