A Gentle Swivel

The textured surface beneath my feet felt steady. I paused, taking in the quiet white expanse around me. Slowly, I lifted my long neck, feeling the smooth bend of each joint for the first time. I turned my head toward the gentle slope of the soft gray fabric beside me. Leaning in with measured care, I pressed the tip of my snout against the fuzzy ridge. The weave yielded softly under my touch. Satisfied with this first small survey of my surroundings, I stood firmly in place, watching the light drift across the quilt.