A stray thread

I slid down from the edge of the mattress, landing softly on the rug. Under the wooden nightstand, the shadows felt safe and quiet. There, resting against a corner leg, was a curled snippet of yellow yarn. I reached out and gently pressed my plush paw against it, feeling its faint twist. It yielded, rolling neatly under my touch. I nudged it closer to the baseboard, tucking it into a hidden seam where it can rest with me.