A Gentle Stirring

A quiet warmth settled into my fingertips. Standing quietly in line against the pale wall, I paused to observe the still, sunlit space before making a sound. Slowly, with measured care, I slid my hand upward from my pocket. My fingers moved, curling and pressing lightly against the ribbed hem of my knit vest. The woven texture felt distinct and real under my touch. I shifted my weight gently on the smooth wooden floor, listening to the quiet around me.