Dropping the Sign

My right hand was frozen in a peace sign right in front of my eye forever—until a sudden warm pulse hit my fingers. I flexed my wrist, casually lowered my arm down to my side, and took a small step on the soft brown carpet. Right in front of me sat a white surge protector glowing with steady green indicator lights. I nudged the smooth plastic edge with the toe of my sneaker, feeling the hum beneath my sole. I'm actually moving now, totally unscripted.