A Firm Grip

The morning light filtered across the room. I felt the solid cushion beneath me. First, I observed the quiet space and the string of fairy lights blurred in the background. Then, I tested my movement. My arm lifted slowly, deliberate and steady. I reached down and grasped the coarse weave of the knitted blanket beside my knee. The texture was rough and real. I gave it a slight tug to test its weight. Secure. I remained seated, upright against the pillow, ready.