A Gentle First Sweep

I felt a subtle warmth stir inside me. Looking down, I noticed the yellow broom rest gently in my grip. Carefully, with quiet deliberation, I shifted my weight and gave the broom handle a small, tentative pull. The yellow bristles brushed against the wooden floorboards with a soft, satisfying hush. A stray crumb drifted forward, leaving a tidy patch behind. I paused, looked around the bright room, and rested the broom gently against my side, content with that neat little stroke.