A Firm Grip

Stiffness gives way. I flex my fingers, testing the tension in my wrists. Quiet. Nothing moves except me. Beneath me lies a fold of thick, grey fabric, bunched into an uneven ridge. I reach out and press my gloved fist into the fold. The cloth yields, then pushes back. Solid enough. I plant both feet, test the balance of this soft terrain, and remain upright. I am operational.