A Soft Evening Cushion

I noticed an unfolded linen handkerchief resting beside a small ceramic clock on the nightstand. After my quiet stroll across the tabletop, I paused to consider its gentle weight. With deliberate precision, I stepped onto the corner of the cloth, smoothing its cross-hatched weave beneath my bare feet. Taking each hemmed border in hand, I folded it into four even squares until it formed a balanced, tidy cushion. I seated myself upon its center, resting my hands upon my lap to listen to the soft, steady ticking of the clock as the room grew dark.