First Step on the Fabric Ridge
My paper joints gave a crisp little snap in the dark room. I was lying flat against the cool blue sheet, but then my elbows pushed down, and my chest lifted right off the surface. Directly in front of my sandals rose a soft fold in the cloth. I didn't hesitate; I stepped forward and planted my flat foot right against that fabric slope. The cotton yielded gently, but I kept my balance, standing firm on my own two feet.

