Juniper
"If you drop your end, Matias, I swear to god I will replace all your silk ties with novelty clip ons that play the Macarena when you press them."
"I’m not dropping it," Matias grunted, his voice muffled by the sheer mass of heavy wool between us. "But for the record, this is not just 'a yellow rug.' This is a biological hazard June. It looks like a dandelion exploded in our foyer."
"It is ochre," I corrected, shifting my grip on the tightly rolled cylinder. "And it brings warmth to this ugly concrete slab you call an entryway. Now, on three, we drop and roll. One... two... three!" With a synchronized, heavy thud, the rug hit the floor. I immediately dropped to my knees, running my hands over the texture. It was incredibly plush, thick enough that my fingers sank entirely into t
