A Patch of Warmth

Warm light drifted across the floorboards. I blinked, realizing I could actually feel the gentle heat seeping through the soles of my shoes. Slowly, carefully, I loosened my clasped fingers. They shifted at my own quiet wish. I took a soft, tentative step toward the stack of books beside me. Reaching out, I brushed my fingertips along the matte spine of the middle volume. It felt textured and smooth, pleasantly cool against the golden glow of the room. I let my hand rest there for a quiet moment, taking in the soft rustle of leaves near the window. I am really here, standing entirely on my own.