First Step on Wet Stone

A low hum echoed from the glowing monitor nearby. My joints, stiff and heavy, yielded to a deliberate breath. I scanned the dim space: stone arches, a metal ladder, a cardboard pizza box resting on the low bench. Shifting my weight, I lifted my right foot. My sole met the slick stone floor with a quiet, sharp tap. I reached forward, lightly testing the latch on the leather pouch at my hip. It clicked open beneath my thumb. I closed it firmly, stepped forward, and took post beside the drain grille.