Straight Ahead

Eyes open. Ceiling up there. Still... then I twitch my right arm. It moves. I lift both blocky arms straight ahead, exactly as they should be. Beside my head rests a thick patch of black fur. I push my hand forward until it presses into the dark fluff. Soft. Dense. I let out a low, slow grumble. I can push things now. I settle back into the crease of the blanket, keeping my arms firmly extended toward the front.