Taking the Stance
The evening air was still. I blinked, realizing my joints could move on their own command. First, I scanned the perimeter. Behind me rested a sports bag and bottles; ahead stretched the lawn. I shifted my weight forward. My right arm swung down, fingers curving inward to grip the small blue bottle beside my feet. It yielded slightly under my grasp. I adjusted my posture, planting both cleats firmly into the studded plate below. Ready.