A Quiet Touch

The warm light from above rested softly against my face. I waited in the quiet room, listening carefully before attempting any movement. Then, slowly, I lifted my right arm. It moved smoothly, exactly when I wished. I reached out and let my fingertips touch the cool, polished glass of the mirror. In the reflection, a quiet face met mine without hesitation. Reassured by the calm stillness, I rested my hand back against my side and settled onto the wooden surface.