Solid Timber

The red glow cast long shadows across the floor. A low hum drifted from the neon overhead. I took in the stillness, then tested my hands. My knuckles, resting on the wooden bench, responded to my will. I pressed downward slowly, feeling the firm grain and cool polish of the timber beneath me. It held steady. No sudden movements were needed. I settled my weight evenly along the seat, looking out across the quiet entryway with clear eyes. I am awake.