A Deliberate Touch
A quiet warmth settled through me, easing away the stillness. I paused, taking in the gentle pastel washes drifting behind me. With measured care, I lifted my right hand toward my collarbone. My fingertips met the cool, rounded beads resting at my throat, feeling each smooth contour turn slightly under my touch. The sensation was distinct and real. I returned my arm to my side, finding steady balance once again. I am here, awake and composed.