A blanket gives me a strange but pleasant feeling of security. As if the whole world remains somewhere beyond its borders, and inside there is only peace and safety. It seems to whisper, "Don't be afraid, you can just sleep here."

Sometimes it seems like it's not about warmth, but about the comfort of the soul. After all, under a blanket you can not only fall asleep, but also hide from thoughts, from work, from the too-busy day. It's a quiet place where you don't need to be strong.

There's something childishly touching about it: wrapping yourself in the fabric, closing your eyes, and feeling the world become kinder. Maybe that's why it's impossible to fall asleep without a blanket—without it, the feeling of soft, warm harmony is lost.