A Tiny Grip

The quiet room was dimly lit. I sat on the smooth wooden edge beside the others, our legs stretched out in a neat row. Then, something stirred inside my hand. My fingers twitched, and the little light green bag hanging from my wrist shifted. I gave my hand a deliberate wiggle. It really moved. I gently pressed the plastic handle with my thumb, feeling the cool curve of the tiny strap. Everything was still around us, but my small hand could move all on its own.