Green Folds

The morning was still. I blinked slowly, taking in the soft expanse around me—it felt as warm and steady as a fresh matcha pancake. Carefully, I lifted my arm. It shifted just as I wished. I leaned forward, testing the quiet give of the fabric beneath, and pressed a small foot into a crease in the dark green blanket. The cloth sank gently under my weight. With a low, contented murmur, I paused to let the quiet settle in.