A Firm Footing

The quiet noon light settled over the woven fabric beneath me. I blinked, sensing weight and shape in my limbs. Carefully, I shifted my front left shoe forward. It pressed down into the coarse grey weave of the cushion with a soft, steady resistance. The textured threads yielded just enough under my sole before springing back. I nudged forward one small pace, testing the grip against the upright backrest. Solid ground. I paused, resting firmly in place.