Tucked in the Sleeve

I crept past the shadow of the desk and stopped beside the large armchair. A thick knit cardigan hung low over the armrest, its soft sleeve spilling down to the floor. I paused, tilting my head to listen to the quiet house. Step by careful step, I nudged my nose against the wool. The weave gave way easily, warm and smelling faintly of dried lavender. I wriggled forward until only my face peeked out from the ribbed cuff. It felt safe, snug, and very quiet. I think I will rest here for a little while.