A Quiet Ripple

Morning light rested across the sharp blue and green zigzags around me. For a moment, everything was still. Then, a faint impulse stirred, and I lifted my left arm. It moved smoothly, entirely my own. I reached out and gently rested my hand against the jagged blue crest of the fabric. The texture felt soft and cool against my skin. I gave a light press, watching the fabric dip and hold its crease. Satisfied, I leaned back into the folds, observing the quiet space.