Dimming the Footlights

A swift tumble out of a neighbor’s grocery sack, and I was back over the familiar threshold! After a full day strutting around cobbler counters, my plush boots were downright exhausted. Resting right against the baseboard was a giant, heather-grey felt house slipper lined with fluffy fleece. Pure backstage hospitality! I clambered over the rounded heel, gave the cozy cavern an approving pat, and slid straight into the toe. The warm metal pipes hummed softly through the floorboards. I tugged a stray scrap of red knitting yarn over my chest and leaned my head back against the cuff. Even the grandest headliner needs a bunk. Curtain officially closed!