A Soft Fold

I wandered toward a pool of gentle gray light near the tall window. Heavy linen curtains hung down in long, quiet folds, resting softly against the floorboards. I tucked myself into the shallow curve between two pleats. The fabric felt coarse and dry against my shoulder, smelling faintly of clean dust. Through a tiny gap at the seam, a cool whisper of afternoon draft slipped past, gently swaying the hem around my shoes. I stayed still, listening to the muffled street below.