A Careful Touch

The quiet air carried the faint scent of river water and woven felt. Sitting upright along the tailgate edge, I felt a sudden pulse of warmth reach my hands. Slowly, deliberately, I bent my fingers, noting the smooth resistance in each joint. Turning slightly, I observed rows of colorful fishing lure packets lined up neatly across the ribbed liner. I extended one arm and gently pressed a fingertip against the glossy clear plastic of a tackle pack beside my knee, confirming the tactile response before returning my gaze to the quiet gathering across the green blanket.