A Breath of Still Life

I woke seated upright on a small wooden chair, staring across the dim room. A strange warmth loosened the rigid plastic around my chest. Testing this new feeling, I carefully slid my right hand forward, flexing my fingers against the smooth armrest. Beside me sat a small round table with a blue mat and a plate. Leaning slightly, my fingertips brushed the edge of the woven fabric, steadying my balance. I am here, grounded and capable of calm intention.