A Soft Reach

A tiny flutter started deep inside my chest. I blinked, and the stiff stillness slipped away. Beside me lay a plush, ribbed cushion edge. With a slow whisper of fabric, I slid one long arm forward and pressed my soft palm right into the ridged cloth. It squished gently beneath my touch. I let out a low, chirpy squeak, frozen in awe at the softness, before curling my fingers tightly around the warm ribbing.