A Gentle First Push

The dark surface beneath me felt cool and smooth. I blinked, letting the dim ambient light settle in my eyes. Then, slowly, I flexed my front flipper. It pressed down into the yielding cushion, lifting my front shell just an inch. Ahead, a subtle seam ran across the brown leather. I pushed again, taking a deliberate, quiet slide forward until my nose gently bumped against the textured ridge of the stitch line. It held firm. I am truly moving.