A Silent Curtsy

My joints snapped loose with a tiny, silent jolt. I tilted my head, eyes wide, fingers twitching as life hummed through my limbs. Beside my boots sat a crinkled, shiny black plastic sack. I leaned forward, bending my knees in an exaggerated pantomime, and tapped the smooth plastic with a gloved finger. It made a crisp crinkle. Delighted by the sound, I offered the bag an elaborate, theatrical bow, freezing in a dramatic pose with a wide, silent grin.