Initial Movement

Silence. Then, an impulse. I looked up at the ceiling, feeling the textured fabric under my back. I did not rush. Methodically, I curled my fingers into a fist, testing the response. It obeyed. I pressed my palm down into a deep seam of the quilted blanket, feeling the cushion yield and push back. With deliberate control, I braced against the crease and pushed my upper body upward, scanning the perimeter. Steady. Operational.