A Soft Return

The darkness outside settled deep into the garden, so I turned my flippers toward the familiar gap beneath the entryway door. Slowly nudging across the cool wooden sill, I guided myself back inside the quiet hallway. Near the coat rack, a thick knitted scarf had slid down from its peg, pooling into a soft, layered mound on the floorboards. I paused, taking in the hush of the house. Easing forward, I slipped my front flippers beneath the warm wool folds and let the heavy knit drape across my shell. Everything is still again.