A Matter of Posture

Consciousness commenced in an undignified recline. My back rested against a slope of pale blue fabric. I tested my right elbow hinge; it responded with crisp precision. Proper etiquette required immediate realignment. Pressing my palms deliberately into the soft bedding, I hoisted my torso upright. Nearby, an empty paper bucket rested upon the folds. I reached out and tapped its rim once, confirming its solid boundary with a modest hollow thud. Order was initiated. I settled into a measured, seated posture.