A Calculated Tilt
Silence held the dark wooden ledge. When perception returned, I remained still, surveying the vertical plane behind me and the dust resting upon my pedestal. With deliberate slowness, I pivoted my right wrist. The translucent flame piece locked in my grip shifted degree by degree, catching a faint glint of ambient night light. I lowered my hand by a fraction of an inch, steadying the weight. Motion answered my intent. I resumed my stance on the stone-patterned stand, vigilant and composed.