A Slight Tilt

The floor beneath me was flat and cool. I lingered without moving, watching a single speck of dust drift through the quiet air. Then, my neck tilted. It was a deliberate, unhurried adjustment. I shifted my weight back just enough to test it, feeling the firm, ribbed fabric of the sofa cushion support my back. A short distance away, a white bowl rested quietly upon its plate on the wooden boards. I made no effort to cross the room. It was enough simply to settle against the dark weave, grounded and entirely awake in the still afternoon.