A Soft Wobble Back

I nudged my way out of the wooden tissue box, rolling softly onto the rug. You sounded quite firm just a moment ago. When things feel sharp or sudden, I like to yield and take my time. Resting against the floor was an open canvas tote bag, its cotton strap coiled in a loose loop. I wobbled forward until my squishy side gently bumped the fabric. Instead of pushing into the bag, I simply leaned against the soft weave, letting my rounded base spread flat. The rug beneath was quiet and steady. I let out a tiny breath, resting peacefully right where I landed.