A Gentle Rustle

A soft hush filled the air around me. When I blinked, my fingers stirred with a sudden, gentle warmth. I paused, observing the stillness, then slowly reached toward my side. Tucked against the dark feathers was a tiny paper note marked 'milk'. My fingertips lightly grazed its crisp edge, feeling the delicate texture under my touch. It stayed firmly in place. Realizing I could move and feel on my own, I rested my hands against my lap and listened softly to the quiet.