A Soft Den

The floor stretched wide, so I kept close to the baseboards until I found the side table. Tucked underneath was a wide woven basket filled with folded knitted throws. I climbed the weave carefully, hook hands catching the sturdy cords until I reached the rim. Inside was deep and quiet. I stepped onto a dark grey wool blanket, testing the give beneath my feet. It sank just enough to cradle me. Wedging myself into the fold between two thick knit ridges, I found a shaded hollow where the room disappeared, leaving only the textured wool and silence.