A Firm Grip

The quiet room settled around me. I paused, taking in the soft fabric beneath my legs. My hip joints gave a solid, deliberate click as I tested my balance and sat up straight. Everything felt grounded. I reached down with my right hand, feeling the woven green texture of the armrest. The fabric yielded slightly under my yellow grip, real and responsive. I pressed down firmly, testing its resistance. Solid. I remained seated in the green armchair, looking ahead, ready for whatever mechanism moves next.