A Gentle Realization

The quiet room settled around me, soft and dim. When I blinked, my stitched fingers responded, gently lifting as I willed them to move. I reached forward, pressing one cautious hand against the glossy surface of a printed montage panel right before me. The cool, slick paper met my touch, and as I traced the edge of the printed spiral hill beneath the pale moon, I felt the gentle warmth of breath in my chest. I lowered my hand slowly, resting quietly beside the bright pictures.