Testing the Joints

Wait, did my fingers just twitch? I blinked against the morning air, shook out my arms, and realized I could actually lift my boots off this rough concrete step. Right behind me, a cracked weathered ledge was practically begging for a test run. I took two swift strides forward, reached out, and pressed my palm against the white painted riser. Solid. Sturdy. My joints work, the balance is real, and the whole open porch is right there to patrol.