A Gentle Seam

The room glowed in quiet green. I felt a soft pull along my stitched arm, light as thread unspooling. Carefully, I lifted my small cloth hand from the sheet. Next to me sat the striped fabric friend, still and silent. I leaned closer and gently smoothed a crease in the fabric of his striped sleeve with my fingertips. He did not move, but the soft weave beneath my hand felt real, and warm. I settled quietly back against the wavy pillow, listening to the calm hush of the room.