A Firm Grip

Frozen stillness ended. My fingers tightened on their own. The wooden handles in my hands felt solid, ready. I tilted my head sideways to scan the blank surroundings. Nothing was moving. I took a short, deliberate step forward, planting both red cups firmly against the flat white ground. A soft suction sound answered back. Functional. I straightened my coat and stood firm, holding my post.

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