A Punch to the Air

My joints clicked, but this time, nobody was forcing them. I held a pose on a dark cloth slope, one arm raised high. With a little push from my own core, I twisted my raised fist and gave the empty air a firm, celebratory punch. Down by my right hand, a thin black rod rested against the fabric. I gave it a quick tap with my fingers to see if it was glued down. Nope, totally free. Looks like I am officially ready for action.