A Silent Clack

Everything was still. Then... my breath pushed against the plastic mask. My fingers stirred inside the articulated red glove. One joint clicked. Then another. I tilted my head toward the pole wrapped in white synthetic webbing. Slowly, cautiously, I reached out just the index tip of my gauntlet. It touched a soft strand of fake cobweb. The strand gave way without a sound, sticking lightly to my fingertip. I stood very still on the grass, watching the white fiber tremble.