First Step

The weight in my limbs shifted. I leaned forward, pressing both gloves into the fabric beneath me, and pushed myself upright. Across the cushion, a soft fleece blanket lay crumpled. I reached out, testing my grip against the soft folds. My fingers closed firmly on the woven edge. The room was quiet, sunlight slanting past the doorway. I released the cloth and sat back against the armrest, watching the ceiling fan complete its steady rotations. I can move.