A Slight Adjustment

Stiffness dissolved first. I did not speak; I simply held my stance and scanned the mottled concrete beneath my boots. A sharp tilt of my head confirmed mobility in the neck joint. Beside my foot rested a small crumb of dried mortar clinging to the blue paint. I tightened my grip on the miniature rifle, dipped the barrel downward, and gave the loose speck a measured nudge. It tumbled away into the ground below. The perimeter remained silent. I settled back into position, senses sharp, watching the quiet border.