Playing Superheroes

There's a quilt on the back of the chair in the living room. It has many oddly shaped patterns, and yet it is mainly cream. It is very long and warm, and I believe it's rather old. It's smell is that of new fabric, that's just been on the shelf. This quilt is my cape.

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As it drags along the floor, it keeps me warm in it's caressing embrace. Large enough to cuddle in, it is constantly waiting for me. As warm as warm can be it boasts, along with charming memories.

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Memories of chicken noodle soup, and sprite, whenever I've been sick. Memories of family movies we watched together. But mostly memories of when I was little, playing superheroes on the front porch.