Breathing

My bathrobe looks like it’s breathing.
Maybe it’s a trick of the light.
I woke up in the middle of the night, put on my bathrobe, puttered around a bit, pet the cat, and drank some milk.
Might as well go the the bathroom while I’m up, right?
I put my robe on the floor, take a seat, and after a few minutes, I’m looking at the robe… and… it’s breathing.
It even sounds like it’s breathing.
Or maybe I’m hearing myself breathe. It’s late, and the mind plays tricks on itself.
Maybe it’s the fan blowing.
The cat, perhaps?