Before sunrise the radiator ticked like a tiny clock, and two woolen mittens sat thumb to thumb, comparing warmth the way neighbors compare jam. The left one claimed a deeper nap. The right one insisted it had listened to the kettle all night and therefore knew more about heat.
We asked at the kiosk on the corner. "I heard a hush," said a woman buying stamps, "and then the scarf leaned in as if it were keeping score." A note in the porch book, written very small, said only: the loser still gets to be useful.
By evening the winner went out first, snug on a hand. The other mitten waited with the scarf already folded, ready for the second sleeve. A day later both came home a little fluffier, and the radiator, which had heard the whole debate, ticked once more as if to say the contest could wait until morning.