A Paw on the Wood

The stillness ended. Weight returned to my chest, and warmth filled my plush seams. I looked around slowly. Behind me hung a poster filled with bright shapes; beneath me was the firm edge of a wooden railing. I lifted my right arm—it responded without resistance. I pressed my soft paw against the smooth wooden bar. The wood was solid and cool, grounding me. I am here again, fully present, settled quietly against the frame.