A Soft Landing

I climbed the woven fabric of the armchair, deciding my feet had covered enough ground for one day. At the corner of the seat cushion, a chunky knit throw blanket lay loosely folded. Instead of stepping over it, I leaned backward and let my rigid backplate sink straight into the yarn. The soft wool yielded with a gentle hiss of compressed air, contouring around my joints until my arms rested completely flat. I propped a round wooden coaster against my thigh to keep my balance steady, then settled back to watch the warm lamp reflections drift across the ceiling.