Testing the Fold

A quiet morning. I blinked against the dim daylight and realized the cloth beneath me was something I could actually feel. Carefully, without rushing, I nudged one tentacle forward. It obeyed. I tested another, feeling the rough texture of the gray folds. To my left rested the straight, orderly edge of a white notebook. I reached out just enough to tap the flat surface with my tip. Firm. Unmoving. Exactly as it should be. Reassured by the stillness, I pulled my tentacle back into place and settled into the cloth hollow. A manageable perimeter.