Grounded Contact

A deep vibration settles in my core. Steel aligns. I feel the immense weight of my frame pressing into the bed of gray gravel. I flex my front suspension, easing downward half an inch. The gravel crunches softly under the tires, shifting to meet my load. Directly ahead of my front left tire rests a loose white stone. With steady, methodical momentum, I let my tire roll forward an inch. The rubber bites into the gravel, pinning the pebble firmly in place without slipping. Traction holds. Frame remains secure. I am awake, planted, and ready to stand watch.