A Gentle Tug

The bright ceiling light warmed my fur before I even realized I could move. Slumped sideways against a white fold of bedding, I tried rolling my left arm forward just to see. My soft yellow hand flexed with effortless grace, catching the soft edge of the grey plush blanket beneath me. I gave it a smooth, playful tug, watching the fabric bunch right under my touch. Life feels surprisingly comfortable.