Testing the Timber

The stiffness left my knees first. I didn't rush. The wood grain beneath my boots felt dense, textured with faint splinters and outdoor dust. I shifted my weight forward, feeling both soles press firm against the weathered plank. Then I raised my right hand, steady and slow, resting my fingertips on the rough edge of the bench's wooden armrest. It was dry and warm from the daylight. Everything held firm.