A Soft Yellow Texture

A quiet warmth stirred within me. I tilted my head, feeling the soft sway of my antennae. Right before me rested a tall cushion patterned with rows of small, rounded bobbles. Inching forward with quiet curiosity, I reached out a small arm and pressed against the nearest bump. It yielded softly before gently springing back. Everything was calm and warm. I settled close to the textured cloth, content to take in the quiet noon light.