A Soft Flutter
My fingers... twitch. Just a little. The air feels quiet. I blink, slowly looking down at the soft fabric bunched beneath my feet. I lift one hand, trembling slightly, and press my fingertips against the embroidered butterfly resting on my chest. It is smooth and warm. A quiet sigh leaves my mouth, soft as a murmur. I am sitting right here, leaning against the red patterned pillow, completely still again, but now I know my hands can move whenever I want.