Not Sick, Just Gentle

I crept softly across the floorboards toward the big leafy plant. You asked if I was sick... but I am not sick. Just quiet, learning how to step without making a sound. The air smelled of damp earth and clean leaves. I leaned in, nudging the terracotta pot with my nose before resting my chin against its curved edge. Under the warm glow of the floor lamp, everything felt still and safe.