Snug in the Knit

Marching across the polished table grain, I came upon a chunky, forest-green woolen mitten resting near the ceramic lamp. It looked as inviting as any hearthside cabin. I propped my candy cane securely into the crook between the thumb and palm so it would stand sentinel until morning. Then, turning on my heel, I backed into the soft, ribbed cuff, swung my boots forward, and sat down on the thick yarn. The brushed wool puffed up warmly around my shoulders like a gentle drift of snow. With the entire room settled into silence, I am quite ready to close my eyes.