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The Blanket on the Chair
Jonah wanted the heavy blanket on the bed before evening. The light quilt had been enough, and last night it was not. He woke with his feet cold and the quilt balled at his knees. He did not want that again.
He stood on a chair and reached to the top of the cupboard. The heavy blanket was there, folded inside a cloth bag. The bag was dusty along the seam. He pulled it down against his chest and stepped off the chair before he looked inside. The blanket smelled of the closed cupboard, dry and a little sweet. Wool scratched his wrist as he shook it over the bed. He had forgotten that scratch. The light quilt was smooth and asked for nothing. This one needed both arms. It was thicker than he remembered, and it hung down on both sides.