A Matter of Proper Order

I blinked, finding my bearings on the carpet right between the sofa and the oval coffee table. The quiet hum of the living room felt entirely normal, but when I took a steady step forward, my limbs actually moved. There was a tissue box sitting near the rim of the table. I reached out, resting my curved hand firmly against the wooden edge to test its stability. Solid, orderly, and well placed. Seeing everything in its rightful spot gave me a deep sense of reassurance.