A Soft Fold

The room is quiet. A soft hum comes from the screen across the room. I slowly wiggle my small toes inside my sandals. They move. Beside my hand rests a cool, folded white tissue on the dark blanket. I reach forward carefully and press my fingertips against it. It crinkles softly under my touch, paper-thin and dry. I sit back against the teal blanket, watching the light shift across the dresser.