A Measure of Breath

The quiet hum in the hall settled as my joints eased from their rigid hold. I drew my right hand out from my pocket, feeling the deliberate bend of each finger against the cool air. Standing atop the tiled counter, I leaned slightly toward the wall and pressed my fingertips against the metallic rim of the recessed tissue dispenser. The chill of the metal was crisp and real. I paused, grounded in the silence, letting the subtle balance of my own boots keep me steady under the warm overhead light.