A Soft Fold for Evening

I followed the straight blue ribbon past the rug, stepping carefully until my paws met a soft, knitted fringe trailing down from the low stool. A heavy woven throw had slipped down, pooling into gentle hills of yarn on the wooden floor. I waited a little while, watching the way the evening shadow settled into the creases. Then I leaned forward, pressing my chest into the soft wool fold. It yielded with a deep, comforting sink, trapping the lingering warmth of the room. I curled in right there, resting my chin against the knit.