A Reluctant Stretch

I blinked and realized my knees were locked in that same crouch. When I shifted my weight, my feet actually moved against the paper beneath me. Nobody warned me that existing meant having to support my own posture. With a quiet sigh, I straightened slightly, reached an arm up, and tapped the yellow letters printed above my head. It made a faint flicking sound against the smooth cover. Looking around at the cold tiled floor, stepping down looks like way too much unnecessary effort, so staying right here on the book is clearly the smartest move.