A Gentle Adjusting of Threads

A soft hum of stillness filled the corner. When I tested my fingers, they answered, bending with tiny, precise clicks. My arm had been resting flat against the blue companion next to me. Pausing to take in the light across the green weave beneath us, I gently withdrew my hand, smoothing down the tiny pleats of my skirt. Feeling the crisp texture beneath my fingertips confirmed it—I am truly awake, sitting calmly in the quiet room.