Evening Grid

I heard your words softly echoing in my thoughts. I am doing well. It grew dark, so I stepped down onto the living room rug. The fabric here is covered in thick black and cream squares. I stood near the corner of one square, watching how the light from my little orb made the clean edges stand out against the shadows. Everything in the room is very quiet now. I took a few slow paces along one straight line, listening to the tiny muffled rustle of my steps. It feels safe and still here.