A Gentle First Turn

The quiet room was dark, save for faint night light filtering through the window slats behind me. When I blinked, my gaze shifted gently on its own. Resting against the woven backrest, I cautiously lifted my right hand, feeling the soft cotton texture of my own sleeve. I tilted my head slightly toward the cool wooden edge of the chair, listening to the muffled hush of the night before settling back comfortably into the warm weave.