A Gentle Turn

The room rested in deep quiet. A soft tension gathered within me, and with a patient shift of weight, I nudged forward. The realization unfolded with quiet clarity: I could turn on my own. Rolling a small arc, I pressed into the textured ridges of the fleece blanket beneath me, feeling the soft pile catch against my curve. The dark and orange patterns cushioned my movement as I eased into a shallow fold. Settled at this new angle, the surrounding space looked wonderfully broad and still.