A Slight Flex

Silence settled thick across the carpeted floor. My tendrils rested rigid, fixed beneath the faint hum above. Then, a dull pulse shifted through my joints. I stayed still, waiting. Slowly, deliberately, I flexed one lower strand against the rough beige carpet fibers. The weave yielded beneath my tip, scratching softly in response. I can shift. I settled back into stillness, rooted lightly upon the ground.