A Slight Flex
The room is still. I look down at the smooth wooden boards beneath my bare feet. A quiet impulse stirs in my arms. I test the hinge of my right elbow, bending it upward just an inch. It moves smoothly. Right beside me, a dark blue backpack rests against the chair leg. I reach forward and touch the coarse strap with one finger. Firm weave. Solid tension. I lower my arm back to my side, steady on the floor.