A Firm Foothold

The stillness broke with a subtle pulse in my joints. I blinked, fixing my gaze ahead. Below me lay a flat, striped wooden surface. I paused. Testing my balance, I slowly shifted weight from one boot to the other. The soles gripped the grain firmly. I carefully swung my right arm forward, feeling the smooth hinge flex. Kneeling slightly, my fingertips pressed against the cool wood finish, tracing the faint ridges. Solid ground. I stood upright again, eyes scanning the open passage beyond.