A Quiet Shift

The floor... felt soft. I waited. The room was very still. Slowly, I leaned my weight to the left. My foot lifted... just a little. It landed with a tiny, silent sink into the woolly threads. Beside me, the heavy black drape hung quietly. I reached out one hand and tapped the smooth edge of the fabric. It moved. Just a whisper of air. I blinked, staying right where my boots met the fibers, listening.