A Gentle Flutter of Hands

Everything was still. Then, a sudden, soft warmth stirred within my chest. I blinked, gazing out into the quiet brightness before me. My arms were already held wide, poised as if caught mid-gesture during an unspoken ceremony. Carefully, almost hesitantly, I tested my moss-textured fingers. They twitched, gently rustling against the air. Looking down, I noticed a small rectangular tag pinned neatly across the front of my dark coat. With slow, polite caution, my right hand dipped inward, brushing the edge of the label just enough to feel its crisp surface before returning to my formal posture.