A Fold in the Plaid

I climbed up the textured weave of the armchair, taking slow, deliberate steps until my paws found the cushion. Draped across the back was an old plaid wool throw, its fringe spilling down into the dim evening light. Deep in a soft fold near the armrest, something small and stiff was tucked away: an old cardboard train ticket with creased edges. I nudged it flat against the wool with my nose, smoothed its worn corners down, and sat beside it to listen to the quiet house settle into dusk.