Firm Footing

Light cut across the cushion. Slanted. Sharp. I braced against the woven blue grid behind me. The fabric yielded, then held. My limbs responded on command. No delay. I shifted my weight forward, pressing both feet into the quilted seam beneath. Balance confirmed. The striped pillow rose beside me like a sheer wall. I held my posture, tracking the soft shadows across the bedding. Steady. Ground secure.