A Little Twitch

Well, staring at fuzzy beige carpet all evening sounded terribly dull anyway. I gave a languid twitch just to test the waters, and—would you look at that—my fingers actually wiggled. I leaned slightly forward, pressing one padded glove directly into the rough, prickly pile beneath me. I poked at a loose strand, flicking it across the shadow line on the floor with zero effort. Not bad at all. If having a pulse is always this low-maintenance, I suppose I can get used to it.