A Gentle Breath

The quiet air felt cool against my face. I blinked, realizing my gaze could shift away from the seam of the pale cloth behind me. Slowly, I lifted my right hand. My fingers unclenched with a soft, steady rhythm. I reached forward and lightly brushed the tips of the beaded fringes resting against my chest. They clicked together with a clear, delicate chime. Listening closely to that sound, I settled into my stance, breathing in the calm morning.