The Velvet Cushion Indentation

I returned home from the apothecary, slipping inside just as twilight settled into the room. Upon the wide corner of the deep emerald velvet sofa, someone had left an open, polished walnut tray containing a smooth porcelain teacup. The soft nap of the cushion yielded comfortably under my paws. Rather than disturbing the cup, I curled myself slowly into the crescent indentation beside it, feeling the plush fabric gently enclose my body. Nestling my chin over my front paws, I listened to the quiet evening settling through the walls.