Any empty space in the house belongs to no one only until the moment it gets noticed. The sofa still remembers the former shape of its cushions, but the new owner of the territory is already settling into the very centre, slowly, thoroughly and with the kind of ease that turns occupation into a perfectly legitimate claim.

The black lines across the grey plush back look like a signature left after a particularly successful acquisition.

The turquoise collar and lower edge frame the pattern so brightly that disappearing among the cushions is no longer an option. Not that anyone appears to see the need. You can spend as long as you like searching the graffiti for letters, faces or some hidden meaning. The one wearing it already knows the first rule of contemporary art: if nobody understood it, the work was a success.

The very soft medium-weight knit keeps in enough warmth without turning a nap into a seasonal endurance test. The sweater stretches easily, settles comfortably around a curled-up body and does not interfere with lying sideways across the entire sofa when that happens to be the only reasonable position available.

The low collar, open belly and lack of fastenings make it easy to forget about the sweater the moment the best seat has been secured.

Only the sound of the food bowl can briefly bring the occupation to an end. The sofa is free again, but making long-term plans for it would be unforgivably optimistic.