Tracing the Printed Road

Quiet. The world stopped being still. I tilted forward... just slightly. My neck obeyed. Beneath me, a woven roadway stretched across the carpet in painted miniature lines. I waited, observing the quiet turns. Then, I tipped my nose down to touch the grey fabric path. Coarse threads. Real texture. I leaned back against the dark blue cloth, resting quietly as I watched where the tiny road led.###