First Friction

Stiffness faded first. My right hand, held wide in mid-air, twitched. Fingers closed into a firm fist, testing weight and tension. Beneath me, the sculpted swirling blue and red arcs remained frozen, yet the rollers under my boots clicked faintly as I shifted my center of balance. I pressed one sole down against the curved plastic wake, feeling real resistance against the surface. The stance held. I am functional.