A Firm Foothold

The warmth holding me loosened, and my feet touched the wooden grain beneath. For the first time, my joints moved at my own command. I surveyed the terrain: fallen colorful bricks and tall assembled contraptions rose in the distance. Before taking a step, I shifted my weight, finding my center of balance. My curved hand extended and lightly grasped the smooth edge of a nearby green wing element resting on the table. Solid. Reliable. The space around me was complex and chaotic, but my footing was steady. I adjusted my posture and remained in place, quietly observing.